


(Fits Like) a g(Love)

by PaperAnn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Awkward Sexual Situations, Best Friends, Castiel is a Tease, Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, Dean is In Over His Head, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2018, Drunken Confessions, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Reunions, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Graduate Sam Winchester, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Platonic Cuddling Turned Romantic Cuddling, Possessive Behavior, Road Trips, Romantic Fluff, Sam Instigates Club Shenanigans, Sexual Tension, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-07-16 07:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 68,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16081469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperAnn/pseuds/PaperAnn
Summary: For the last five years, Dean has been great at avoiding his family. For five years, he’s been able to feed them the lie he’s found an alpha, making damn sure they steer clear of something as archaic as match-matching. He refuses to be sold off like livestock!Dean’s luck has run out: Sam is graduating Law School and everyone (Dean means everyone) is heading to Palo Alto to celebrate. The only person Dean can turn to for help is his best friend, Cas—and thank God, he actually agrees. When Dean began bullshitting his parents, well, Cas was (and still is) the inspiration behind Dean’s ‘make-believe alpha.’It becomes clear pretty quick...there isn't much pretending in their performance. What else starts sinking in, is that he and Cas kinda act like a mated couple already. But the one thing that surprises Dean the most: he might not be alone in his big-giant-stupid crush. Maybe the feeling is mutual.Maybe he and Cas have a chance. If they can make it through the visit alive—fighting the insane awkwardness, unbearable sexual tension, ridiculous booze-fueled clubbing (thanks, Sammy!), and meeting the family—just maybe...they can be real.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I got lucky being paired with the amazing [Foxymoley](http://foxymoley.tumblr.com) this year! This gal is not only awesome because she's such a fantastic artist (she _totally_ is), but because working together made the collab so much more exciting and I got the chance to meet a wonderful person I can now call a friend  <3 
> 
> Oh-so-many thanks to my rock, [my Fish](http://whataboutthefish.tumblr.com/), who never lets me down and didn't hesitate when it came to beta reading this fic. I love you, I can always count on you, you're the best!
> 
> **Ann's Notes:** As always, I get really excited when the DCBB comes around! This year is no different :) I had a GREAT team who made this long fic enjoyable with minimal stress, and I'm excited to share the story and the art  <3

**  
** This entire thing was stupid, yet unavoidable.  

Dean had no one else to turn to.

It was Sam’s graduation.  Everyone last one of his family (and friends) would be en route to Palo Alto by the weekend to spend some quality time and  _fuck_ , Dean shouldn’t have waited this long to make his own travel plans!    
  
He’d sent out an SOS call to his brother, asking for advice, because he was royally screwed.  Unfortunately, both the Winchester brothers had come up with the same conclusion: there was only one way to make it through the reunion alive.

See, here’s the thing, Dean was an unmated omega in his thirties.  Even if it was none of his parent’s goddamn business, that _tidbit_ caused some...friction.  
  
Friction wasn’t the word—pandemonium was more like it.

His family had freaked the fuck out, getting all of this wild bullshit into their heads about matchmaking.  Yeah, that’s right—something as archaic as _matchmaking_!  What was worse, was that Dean knew damn well his Dad would follow through.  This wasn’t a joke.  This was a messed up reality that would ruin his life.

So…Dean may have fed them a white lie.  For the past, say, five years?

Just so his Mom and Dad didn’t corner him into a relationship only because unmated omegas were looked down on.    
  
When his lovely Mom and Pops declared they ‘wouldn’t allow _their_ son, (already past his prime), to become an old spinster,’ Dean had snapped back how he already had an alpha.  ‘It was dead serious, they were courting’.

Sam was the only one who knew the truth.  He could tell Sammy anything, and his brother would understand.  The kid wasn’t traditional, he saw nothing wrong with Dean’s lack of motivation to  _search_ for someone to friggin tie him down—who even did that?!  After all, Sam was focused solely on his studies.  
  
Dean already knew, he just knew Sam would never feel the wrath of their parents bearing down on him because of the double-standard.  He’d be able to shape his law career, build his own legacy.  After all, an alpha’s age had no countdown when it came to choosing a mate.

He may have sounded bitter, but it was all in jest.  Dean was so proud of his little brother.  
  
Here Sam was—graduating, about to pass the bar exam with flying colors...with the whole Winchester, Harvelle, Singer Clan, plus additional friends-turned-family heading out to celebrate with him.  
  
Dean _needed_ his plus one.

After all these years of ‘courting,’ his parents were already confused why Dean and his alpha hadn’t mated yet.  But they would be even _more confused_ (if not hopeless and despondent for Dean...and pissed, probably-most-likely-definitely pissed) if he showed up without an alpha at all!

So here Dean was.  At the bar, half drunk and waiting on his ‘date.’

The date itself wasn’t anything new, he was meeting up with his best friend and they went out at least once a week.  Usually they treated themselves to one nice dinner, because they spent their lazy weekends together holed up inside either of their apartments.  Kicking back in sweats or pajamas, letting the stress of their jobs melt away, while they smashed on some take out and watched TV.

Dean was hyping himself up, having a fascinating conversation with whiskey shots.

In fact, when Cas finally caught sight of him after roaming the bar for a while in his search, he raised a very, very interested eyebrow.  “Dean?”  He sniffed the air, leaning in, “How long have you been here?  I’m on time and you’re…well.  You tell me.  Is this a celebration or a drowning of sorrows?”

As Cas scooted into the booth he smiled, noticing Dean had already ordered him a pint of beer and a shot of whiskey.    
  
He told the alpha in a neutral, cryptic way, “Well.  That’s all up to you.”

“Hm, I don’t like being put on the spot or being the deciding factor.”  Cas swallowed the double (of course it was, Dean never ordered singles), and dammit—in Dean’s tipsy state he couldn’t take his eyes off the bob of the alpha’s Adam’s apple.

Oh yeah.  The inspiration behind this mystery man he’d been describing to his family?  Was Cas.  His best friend.  
  
Which was also why he’d called the alpha out here tonight.

Best friends did each other favors like this all the time, right?  I mean, so long as the whole totally-in-love-with-you thing remained a secret.  Dear God, Dean was _so_ fucked.

“So here's the deal, you know my family situation inside and out.  'Bout how I’m gonna die alone with those twelve cats I‘m allergic to.  Still,” he pointed to Cas with a crooked grin, “my family doesn’t know that.”

Castiel shifted around in the booth with a sharply raised eyebrow.  “I know, Dean.  You’ve been telling them you’ve found someone for years.  What does this have to do with—”  He stopped abruptly, putting the pieces together himself.  “Sam’s graduation.  You wish for me…?”

“Be my alpha, baby!  C’mon, you know me, like, every detail of my life.”  Dean wasn’t above begging.  In fact, he did exactly that.  “I couldn’t pay someone off and train them on this short notice.  Plus, you already know Sam.  You’re my _best_ fucking _friend_.  You could write a biography about me and my life.  You’d be saving my bacon, and—”

In the midst of his pleading, he watched the alpha flag down the waitress and order… _four_ shots?

Dean’s spine went rigid—that was a power play.  Did his sudden urge to get trashed mean Dean's request was so painfully unbearable?

When his eyes fell to the table, expression slumping into something crestfallen, Cas’ hand surprised Dean by darting out and wrapping around his wrist.  The alpha squeezed, both to gain his attention and to show him his support.

Carefully, with barely-contained hope, Dean met his gaze.

With the shots now in front of Cas, he announced point-blank, “I’m getting on your level,” and tossed back the whiskey, one by one, all without breaking their eye contact or physical grip.  
  


Fuck, if that didn’t turn Dean on in a weird way, how bullet-proof Cas was.  That sexy superhuman prowess held strong until the fourth and final shot.  Even then, he barely grunted and shook his head at the inevitable burn hitting him all at once.  While Dean studied his every move, his optimism blossomed brighter by the second.

“What are the dates?  I’ll need to request them off work.”

Holy shit.

“ _Holy shit_.  Really?  You're not fucking with me?”  Dean lit up, his hand naturally covering Cas’, and he breathlessly exclaimed, “Just like that?  You’re _really_ going to—?”

“I’m certainly not going to feed you to the wolves.  The pack being your family, who I know had ungodly strong biases when you _were_ a single omega— _before_ your logical fib.  I’ll never understand the prejudice omegas face, while alphas aren’t governed by a single rule.  And you’re right.”  His smile was fond when he said, “I could, indeed, write a biography.  As well as an action-adventure recounting all the ridiculous ploys you’ve pulled me into.”

‘ _What about a romance novel?_ ’ Dean wanted to say so fucking badly.

He had lots of other things, though.  So many other topics that were relevant and needed to be discussed as they continued down this road.

“Hell yes, this just turned into a celebration!  Drinks are on me tonight, my dear alpha,” he cooed the words and batted his eyelashes at Cas, who scoffed in return.  “But seriously, you have no idea how much this means.  God, if I showed up to this shindig—solo?  I’d bet my left nut they’d find a way to work a dowry into the weekend, try and sell me off on the spot.”

Dean admitted with a groan, “Not like I’m considered young and spry prime real-estate anymore—hell, I'd damn near expired!  I’d probably wind up mated to some ugly, fat-ass perv who's pushin' 70.  A creep lookin’ for a breeder.  Desperate for a pup to carry on the family name before they kick the bucket.”

“You know I hate it when you speak low of yourself,” Castiel dictated with a rumbling heat behind his words.  Yeah, Dean heard him say this stuff all the time, but...not like _this_.  “No omega of mine will use that self-deprecating language.”

The alpha pulled away from Dean and crossed his arms on the table with a shit-eating grin.  “If we’re going to do this?  We’ll do it right.  I’m laying down ground rules.”

Wow.  Okay.  Dean did _not_ see that coming.

…Did he have a choice?

“I’m listening…”

They continued to drink, as Cas went on to explain everything.  Soon, ‘everything’ piled up on top on the previous 'everything,' and all these conditions made Dean dizzy—it was more than he could've prepared for!  At first, he wondered if his friend was fucking with him…

It didn’t matter.  At the end of the night, they were both merry and drunk, laying out plans and times to take off from the east coast.  They had a hell of a drive ahead of them, Dean wouldn’t be caught dead ten miles from an airport, so mileage and stops were discussed.  Cas never breathed the word 'flight' around Dean, not even in jest.  Their stupid types of jokes were about packing being the new hangover-cure.  They also commented on how the scenery this time of the year would make for a gorgeous view on their adventure.

Dean couldn’t be happier and it wasn’t because he paddled his way out of shit creek.  
  
Cas had said he was looking forward to it, that it’d been too long since they’d taken a vacation together, well...Dean agreed.  Had it already been over a year since the last time they got away to visit friends?  It was this unsaid rule between them—if the alpha took a trip, Dean was coming, and visa-versa.  
  
It made them _excellent_ travel companions.  Hell, that was how Cas knew Sam like a brother in the first place!  The worst and best part of their countless trips: they never held back when it came to having fun or letting loose.  Dean and Cas kept the majority of the details hushed—more often than not: shit got wild in the ‘What Happens in Vegas’ way.  
  
It was fucking awesome.  Although, Dean couldn’t imagine getting white-girl-wasted-crazy at a graduation celebration—that may be pushing it—but when he, Cas and Sam got together...he didn’t trust them.  
  
Yes, instead of worrying about the stress of his request, about a potential meltdown with his parents, Dean could acknowledge maybe, just maybe, this _would_ be fun.  With the three of them reunited, it had all the potential.  He had no doubts it’d be a memorable chapter to add to that biography Cas was writing.    
  
Dean had the best fucking friend in the world.  God, Cas didn’t even blink before he accepted!  He didn't know any specifics, he hadn't asked about the details, _none_ of it.  Cas just...trusted him.

This was yet another item thrown into the endless heap of reasons why Dean was in love.  He hoped the constant time together didn’t hurt them.  On the other hand…could it help them?  Over the years, there had been so many times he’d thought ‘ _this was gonna happen_.’

During each and every one of those times, it had been arbitrary as to which of them paused when they were so close, or—more often than not—they were interrupted by an outside force.  In all honesty, there were...uh, _a lot_ of splotchy, late and wild nights where Dean had blacked out.  
  
Where booze acted as both liquid courage and his worst enemy.  Maybe he _had_ made a move, feeling bold, but the inevitable happened: Dean clueless about his follow-through, because parts were fuzzy, and the rest was friggin gone.

Sometimes, he _almost_ hoped something happened.  Maybe a part of him knew the feel of Cas’ lips on his.  That the drunk bastard had felt the sweet caress of the alpha he’d been pining over forever; with his body and goddamn soul.   
  
Maybe somewhere in the farthest recesses of his back-stabbing brain—the experience had been so beautiful and monumental—that was the reason he could never look away from Cas to even consider another mate.  God, if he could just grow a pair and tell him…

Maybe one day.  Not today.  Not this month.  Probably not even this year.  
  
Dean would never, ever risk putting their friendship in jeopardy.

What they had was already amazing.

Dean and Cas had complete and utter faith, loyalty and confidence in _them_ —a bond running deeper than simple trust.  An alpha and an omega, existing in perfect harmony.    
  
Of crashing at each other’s places, having stayed up all night laughing and forgetting the numbers on the clock.  Of being able to say goodnight as they had a million times, then wordlessly share a bed because of that respect.  Of never learning their lesson, pulling this shit on work nights.  Then, taking turns waking up early to trudge around the block and grab coffees filled with three shots of espresso, each.  
  
They were two pieces of a whole, a well-oiled and harmonious machine, and Dean _knew,_ romantically involved or not, they _were_ soul mates.

Who the hell said that soul mates had to be intimate, sexual and horizontal?

Nah, Dean knew that Cas was his other half: undeniably.  He’d fight anyone who said otherwise.

What was better, was that Cas knew it, too.  The alpha would probably do the same—Cas wasn’t squeamish about throwing a right hook.

Their relationship was unconventional—maybe even unheard of.  No one understood it but them: that was fine.

That special night, Cas not missing a beat when accepting the position of ’Dean’s alpha’ for the graduation, Dean passed out with a joyous smile on his face.  He slept like a baby all through the night.  Not from the liquor, but from the scent of Cas.  God, he could never get enough of his scent.

Dean was loading the last of his crap into the Impala when he got a text.

Seeing the alpha’s name on the screen caught him off guard, he was picking Cas up in an hour.  His heart stopped cold from the time he saw the name until second he read the message—goddamn terrified something came up, Cas was ditching out, or maybe—  
  
_Thank fuck_.  Everything was fine.  Okay, that was close...  
  
It confused Dean all the same.  Nothing related to trip (not directly), nada about the drive, any last-minute questions, packing inquiries—which was kind of _supposed_ to be their current focus...but—

Cas…had a request.  No.  Cas had an ‘order.’

The message was a demand.  Instructing Dean to go over all the terms and conditions Castiel had laid out for when they played the happy ‘alpha and omega couple.’  About those rules set into motion while they acted their roles.  And…wow, Dean _really_ had to think on this one.    
  
He'd been boozed-up, but—per usual—hanging from every last word comin’ from Cas’ mouth.  Oh yeah, Dean could actually  _feel_  a frown sinking in, there were _a fuck-ton_ of these ‘stipulations’, was this supposed to give him a kick in the ass, or what?

Dean texted back:

_Dean 9:04AM  
_ _Want me to write up a list, Princess?_

When he didn’t get a response, but the text notification said that it had been read, Dean realized something pretty damn quickly.

He’d already broken one of those rules.  Crap!

_Dean 9:06AM  
_ _Do you want me to mentally or physically go over the list, alpha?_

Within seconds, an answer popped up.  Which meant the dick was hovering over his phone.  Chilling and waiting on Dean to catch his own mistake!  Seeing if the terms and conditions had begun yet or not—Dean had a sneaking suspicion...

_Cas 9:08AM_  
_If you’re finished packing, write it out_  
_It’ll help you remember  
I’ll see you in an hour, omega_

Yep.  Okay, then.  Dean was getting all tingly.  Looked like they were both getting into character starting now, and goddamn, was it sexy.  It shouldn’t be, this was a farce, it was a fake courting, so what if Dean wanted it to be real?

_Dean 9:10AM_  
_I’ll get writing  
See you then_

Hunched over his kitchen table, Dean squinted at the scratchpad of paper, scribbling down sentences, correcting his wording in the margin and trying to determine—through numbering—what was the most important thing to Cas.

A couple ideas ranked high, he mused over the recurring lines Cas would tout (bitch at him about) repeatedly, within their friendship.  He started with those themes, knowing a few rules that _must_ be followed under any circumstance.  Even though usually, Dean didn’t give a rat’s ass, and after this: would probably go back to not giving a rat’s ass...

Others—he’d sell his soul to keep.  The tweaks in their presentation that would seal the deal—make all the difference to convince everyone they were together.  At the bar, it didn’t feel weird chatting about anything he was staring down, scrawled on the slightly-crumpled sheet of paper.  Dean’s head was in a much different space: he was caffeinated instead of intoxicated.  Making this shit a whole new ballgame.

All these new additions that weren't natural, not-quite-platonic, they felt odd making the transition from his brain, to his hand, to inked phrases.    
  
When Dean scanned over the sentences, now that the thoughts were down in writing?  Smack-dab in front of him?  It was crazy as hell, but...it made sense.  Maybe this _was_ Cas’ master plan.

A list, in physical form, wasn’t only a reminder.  When read aloud, with the grand scheme of courting in mind (plus, the added necessity of fooling an entire family) Cas was watching out for him.  Getting their story, their dynamic, straight.  
  
Dean would've never thought of _any_ of these things, thank fuck for Cas.  He would’ve struggled through, grappling for a lifeline, because when he thought of being with someone, Dean romanticized love.  While it was cheesy, it wasn't functional in the real world.    
  
At the end of the day: he forgot he was an _omega_ —Cas never treated him as anything less than an equal.  Just as he assumed Cas would do in a relationship.  
  
The rest of the world wasn't like Cas, and being in the public eye, Dean's independence simply  _wouldn’t_ _work_.  He'd blow their cover before he could even introduce Cas!  
  
Of course, this list was foreign but it was the way society worked.  Courting, mating and being with someone for the long haul was foreign, too.

The alpha wasn’t merely doing him a solid by going.  Cas was working overtime: setting the scene and laying all the groundwork Dean was ignorant to.    
  
The alpha had truly thought this out and catered to Dean by placing their relationship into looser, societal roles so it was convincing, yet still _them_.  So Dean wouldn’t suffocate under the pressure.

He huffed a heavy breath as he went over the list again, looking for errors or additions to be made.

1.) Don’t talk shit about yourself ~~too much~~ EVER

2.) _Seriously_ , don’t talk shit about yourself - you _always_ do this

3.) Accept compliments ( _with thank yous_ ) + don’t blow them off

4.) Alpha Cas = spoiling 'his omega’  LET HIM!!! HE’S GONNA ANYWAY YOU ~~BETTER~~ WILL LIKE IT

5.) Don’t need to act submissive, but remember: you’re part of a **unit** , not an  **individual**

6.) When in doubt, follow Cas’ lead ( _srsly you can trust him he’s got this!!_ )

7.) No mating marks = Dean not always wanting to be outed as omega YET - stick to the story!!

8.) “We’re basically already mated”

9.) We’re in the process of closing on a house/moving in together (part of the story)

10.) With family, act natural - like them, as a ‘unit’

11.) In public (graduation), make it ~~obvious~~ _obnoxious_ we’re together AKA (sux) act more submissive ( _like a docile young fawn in the wild_ ) + Cas will overdo his manly thing

  
Dean massaged his temples as he scanned the second part.  This was where his writing became messy, half the list was scribbled out—rewritten, others chunks were illegible when his hand began shaking.  Where his nerves flashed through his body and he almost snapped the pen in half.

They’d discussed this with the backing, during the heightened _pinnacle,_  of liquor invincibility (they'd gone beyond 'liquid courage'), there was no way to avoid it.  Recollecting now, mulling over the concepts while sober, it was daunting.  Dean's first list was embarrassing, this one had him flushed and on the verge of a heart attack.  
  
Before, it seemed so…clinical when it was brought up.  Black and white.  Like another day at the office.

Now that Dean was sitting with it, especially all by himself, he could feel the potential niggling of a _real_ anxiety attack sink in because…these _things—_

He wanted them.  Fuck, did he want them.  And they were on the list, he’d get them: only under false pretense.    
  
They’d mutually agreed on every single item.  Same as before, having it down in ink—the transformation from a verbal concept to tangible proof—changed the weight and meaning.  It altered the way it sat in Dean’s gut and sharpened his perspective with stone-cold clarity.

Dean’s heart was in his throat, scanning through the last part of the list.

 

12.) Open scenting/scent marking _OK always_

13.) Handholding _OK always_

14.) Other physical touch ~~with~~ or  ~~like when~~ **AKA** arms around waist—shoulders—on thigh _OK always_

15.) Cheek kisses _OK always_

16.) Scenting plus neck kiss _OK when being watch by fam/need to play it up_ ~~maybe practice?~~

17.) **Must** share room (we got this!)

18.) **Possibly** share shower ( ~~we don't got this~~ )

 

That last one… _right there._  It freaked Dean out.  But for the sake of their story, if they’d been together for fucking years and years and took turns, it would be a wallop of a tell, right-a-fucking-way.  Even though Dean was undoubtedly risking an inappropriate-under-pressure boner...

They didn’t know the rooming arrangements.  Where they’d be staying, if they were sharing with another couple or friend.  Who knew what the family had planned, details were anyone's guess.  In the upheaval of trying to save his own ass, Dean really should have paid more attention to the logistics.  If he demanded answers now, it'd look shady so it was a waiting game.    
  
Hell, Dean had no idea how much of the weekend they’d spend in Palo Alto—they'd need to be prepared for anything.  Like if they were under someone’s watchful eye?  The whole shower bit…had to happen.

The other night, both of them laughed boisterously, joking about dropping the soap.  Cas had assured him it would be fine, it wouldn’t be any different than skinny dipping in the lake last summer, but Dean—

Could he keep his grubby hands to himself?!  They were already given all this leeway about PDA, then Cas had to throw nudity into the mix!  Fuck!  He was gonna die of sexual frustration!

With an explosive curse, Dean kicked the nearest chair before finishing the list.  
 

19.) ~~small~~ Kisses _if needed_

20.) When in doubt, follow Dean’s lead

  
Huh…

The omega paused, tapping his pen against the final number, and traced the edges.

Even with the mild fog, Dean recalled in vivid color which parts Cas emphasized (commanded like a drill sergeant) when it came to the process and follow-through.  Finally, it clicked.

Their entire ‘unit’ idea.  They were an alpha and omega pair, and at first…Dean was wondering (not that he’d be offended, he trusted Cas with his life _and_ he’d take a bullet for him) if part of the jig was Cas’ alpha side subtly moving him into submission.

Three key points hit home, ones Cas stressed:

The first: Dean’s habit of belittling himself stopped, no exceptions—the omega actually remembered the kind words and a friggin monologue of reasons behind it.  Reasons it sunk in that night when it never had before.

The second, word for word: when in doubt, trust Cas—in relation to aspects of their _dynamic_ , in the way they functioned together as a pair.  Cas was prepared to take on the burden of maintaining their consistency, to guide them in a smooth direction that never deviated from what their relationship was _supposed to be_.  The alpha knew their story, Dean, hell—he even knew about Dean’s family—and if the stress became too heavy, Cas would carry that weight.  He hadn't just accepted the role: he wanted it.

The third, also word for word: when in doubt, follow Dean’s lead—when it came to their _physicality_.  When it came to touch, boundaries, Dean currently fantasizing about crossing them...all wishful thinking.  See, Cas wouldn’t push him, he’d never make Dean feel uncomfortable, and he made it known Dean alone held that power.  The alpha only discussed the bare minimum of what _would_ inevitably come up.  The expected affection and doting a courting pair they’d need (and supposedly want) to present in public.  
  
Then again, here came _another_ level of trust: Dean had no doubt that if _he_ pushed further, if a random situation popped up and the omega felt it right to add more intimacy?  Cas wouldn’t think twice, he’d follow along.

Dean was in a straight-up dangerous position.    
  
Except...this was the job _he_ was granted.  Intentionally, willingly and...happily.

That fact carried meaning.  And blind faith.  God, this alpha was perfect, and suddenly—showering together wasn’t even Dean's biggest concern!

Both men had assignments.  They controlled the two aspects of their fake relationships that would both benefit their bottom line _and_ help one another.  The tasks were heavy in their their own right, yet easily, naturally handed over by the other.  

Dean found it so goddamn ironic—if they really were dating?  Courting?  Damn, this would be a healthy, wholesome, 'let’s give seminars to help people do this thing the right way,’ kinda deal.  

Sure, Dean hadn’t known all this at the bar—he didn’t have his ‘critical thinking cap on’—but he sure did now.  Glancing over the list, even the embarrassing parts, he wasn’t phased any longer.  It all made sense.  It was a guide, a tool, and he was grinning like a loon.

In fact, he couldn’t take his eyes off the balanced, to-do, to-live list and grappled out randomly for his phone.  He shot Cas a text, even though he’d be seeing the alpha soon, he _had_ to..

_Dean 9:45AM  
_ _What would I do without you?_

_Cas 9:50AM_  
_So you’ve discovered the method to my madness_  
_I was wondering when the light bulb would go on  
I’m very pleased and proud of you_

Yeah, Dean could feel his cheeks begin to warm and he knew that he was blushing—but he’d have to get used to this!  

Accepting compliments (a thing Cas threatened would happen regularly) was part of the gig.  He may be used to it in small doses, the only person who inadvertently made him blush _was_ Cas.  Mostly, because  _he_ felt all that babble was undue praise or blowing Dean's average accomplishments out of proportion...at least Dean assumed it was inadvertent...the alpha could be a little shit sometimes.

Why were these small kindnesses so strange?

Dean folded up the list and decided to take it with him, tucking it into the chest pocket of his leather jacket.

He had an alpha to collect!


	2. Chapter One

Cruising down the road, windows down, hair whipping every direction while their Ray Bans kept the intense, setting sun out of their eyes was awesome.  Dean was blasting a tape which Cas had long since memorized each track and every lyric to, but never complained.  He hummed along with the music, elbow out the window—and this...

This, _right here_ , was where Dean was happy.  
  
En route down the turnpike had them making good time.  This was easy, Dean and Cas had gone on countless road trips together.  Even though this one was lengthy, it wasn’t the longest they’d made.  Baby was smoother on pavement than a ship sailing on the water.

Dean flipped down the volume, posing a question to his copilot.  “What’s that iPhone telling ya?”

Cas chuckled, “You’ll have to be more specific, babe.”

They’d slowly been introducing terms of endearment.  They needed to feel natural by the time they were around people armed and ready to analyze them under a microscope.  

Dean got butterflies every damn time, but it didn’t matter right now.  He was saved by the wind funneling through the Impala and flushing out his scent before it could reach Cas’ nostrils.  Thank God.  
  
He was fighting like hell not to be given up.  Dean prayed this weekend didn’t wreck their relationship, the something special they had now.  All it would take was an ill-timed pitter-patter of his lovelorn heart.  The smallest of scents could drop a fuckin’ nuke—the omega refused to be the one pressing that detonator!

Dammit.

“Well, _darling_ , I was wondering how long until we should stop for the night.  What our mileage is like for us picking it up early in the morning, based on your navigation,” he purred out playfully and winked.

Cas looked to his phone.  “We don’t want to be out much past dark.  This area is densely populated with wildlife and the last thing we need is a deer smashing up your Baby.  We can make up time by linking our alarms with the sunrise tomorrow.  I do believe after dusk we should pull over and find a motel.”

“Dark, sunrise, dusk—you’re not much for giving me numbers, are you?” Dean cracked up, only to be nailed with a sharp glare.  After he cleared his throat, he nodded his affirmation.  “But yeah, totally.  With critters around, I ain’t playing chicken, riskin’ my girl.  Plus, me watching these woods for flashing eyes’ll make me go nuts.”

“I know.”  When Dean glanced over this time, he was glad to see the alpha’s expression changed.  There was a meaningful smile on Cas’ face.  “We’ll still be right on schedule if we stop in two hours.  Ahead, if anything.”

“Sweet, let’s do this.  I know I could use a quick shower after all the gnarly truck stop restrooms,” he said in passing.

Friggin casual as casual could be, Cas wondered aloud, “Would you like some company to be sure you’ve washed away all the grime?”

It was a miracle Dean didn’t fly off the road!

He white-knuckled the steering wheel, regaining his composure, before narrowing his eyes at the alpha.  Cas, the dumbass, was trying to disguise the impish grin on his face.  
  
Forcing an even(ish) voice, downright refusing the alpha a victory, Dean asked, “Why?  Wanna start the training on that one, too?”

Cas shrugged noncommittally.  “We’ll see where the night take us.”

Jesus.  Dean wasn’t gonna make it!  Whether by stroke, an accident, a heart attack, he was dead—no way he’d ever see home again.

The little shit of an alpha better be careful, because if Dean was going out in the Impala?  He was taking Cas with him!

The night didn’t take them into a shower, but Cas certainly continued to press boundaries through their ‘training.’  And it wasn’t exactly horrible.  As Dean said, they’d done this before.

It was just…interesting how Cas waltzed up to the front desk and easily ordered a king bed.

Instead of gawking at how flawlessly the alpha took up the role, Dean was beginning to master his poker face.  Sure, Cas was excellent at provoking _him_ , but the way he acted around others about _them_ was...natural.  Right from the get-go.

Until now, Cas had never been one to push boundaries.  He went with the flow and had fun while doing it.  Except, the fact that he was starting all this mischief was both enthralling and utterly _terrifying_ at the same time.

It was a well-known fact to those who knew Castiel (a small, hand-selected group) that he had this carefully-concealed wild side.  To the rest of the world, he seemed collected, demure and unassuming: especially for an alpha.  But the rest of the world…well, they were dead-fucking-wrong.

Cas’ alpha came out with those friends, you never dared him to do anything or else he’d dive in headfirst and then one-up you.  He was fearless, he was open and he loved those close to him with his entire being.  Cas was nothing short of amazing…

And he had balls of steel.

Dean didn’t know if the alpha was searching for some kind of reaction when they dumped their duffle bags inside the room, but he wouldn’t give it to him.

Instead, he told Cas, “I’m gonna take that shower now, okay?  Don’t forget!” he shouted over his shoulder, bag of toiletries and a change of clothes in hand, “I get the left side!”

The chuckled words, “How could I forgot?” was the last thing Dean heard before he shut the door.

He didn’t want to be a diva or show fear, (so after _way_ too much overthinking and deliberation),  he eventually left the door unlocked.  
  
Although, he rushed through the shower like a friggin cyclone, these unpredictable jabs and innuendos were making him uneasy.  Dean knew, logically, Cas wouldn’t do anything outlandish in front of his family.  Maybe the jokes were all meant for fun, between them, for the time being?  
  
If they were cut-and-dry best friends...maybe it _would_ be funnier to Dean.  His feelings made it the exact fucking opposite.  It was Hell.  
  
Current case in point: Dean friggin loved showers!  Especially when he didn’t have to hop in and out, as he got ready for work.  If he could indulge, you better believe he’d milk it until he ran out of hot water.  Now, look what Cas made him do!  Dean barely had time to wet his goddamn hair before he called it quits...

It was time to take matters into his own hands.  
  
Within these close quarters, Dean didn’t trust Cas, or himself, for that matter.  Luckily, he’d packed something special in his bag in case of emergencies.  He hadn't anticipated needing _it,_  not this soon.  
  
Whatever.  Desperate times, and all that had forced Dean’s hand into adding in an extra measure of…protection.  And the way that Cas handled this move would be very, very telling.

Finally, Dean pulled on an old band tee and his boxers (hey, this was how they normally lounged on the weekends, why should tonight be any different?) and pranced out of the bathroom.

“You can use it if you need to.”  Dean was the picture of nonchalance, arranging his belongings while an eerie silence passed.  
  
Nope, Dean wouldn’t look over his shoulder.  Not yet.  He was waiting.

Cas’ voice was...off.  Oddly monotone.  “In truth, I’m decently tired.  I believe I’ll wake up before our departure.  Clean off then.”

Dean finally perked up and turned around.  Cas had already tucked himself into the bed, pajamas and all, while he kept watch over the omega with a curious eye.  Well, Dean had nothing to hide, right?  So he walked over to his side and pulled back the sheets to join him.

With the outlet directly beside him, Dean plugged in his phone, absently responding, “Yeah, fine with me, buddy.   _Baby_.  Whatever,” he laughed at the ridiculousness.  “What time did you set yours for?”

“Five, so I could get ready.  You could probably get away with five-thirty or six.”

With a hum of confirmation, Dean punched the settings into his alarm and dialed up the volume.  When he set the phone down on the nightstand, right as he was sitting back and about to turn and face Cas—to chat about tomorrow, ask if he was really whipped, to say goodnight—

The alpha was _right_ fucking _there_!

Like, Dean sitting back down had slammed them together, body-to-body, and Cas’ nose was buried in his neck!

Unable to move, unsure what to do because, the omega froze.  As if matters couldn’t get any worse, anymore baffling, the slide of Cas’ fingers cuffed under his chin, manipulating the tilt of his head like a ragdoll.  Holy fuck—the alpha gave himself more skin, exposing the full length of his throat…and Dean whined.

He.  Fucking.   _Whined_.

Was this—?!

Omega submission?

In the face of an alpha?  What the _actual fuck_?

That thought alone ignited the fire in Dean.  Whether it was his instincts, his shock at _his own shock_ breaking the spell and snapping him out of it—who knows, he didn’t care!  He wouldn’t be a slave to his anatomy, and he had the right to take control over his own damn body.

“Uh, Cas?  Can I help you?”

The alpha took in one more long inhale and flopped over to his side of the bed.  He was sitting against the headboard with his arms folded petulantly across his chest.  “Are you wearing blockers, Dean?”

Wow.  He didn’t think Cas would notice so quickly, but that sure explained _what the fuck_ just happened!

Dean leaned on his side, scooting closer because he could, determination sunk into his bones and etched onto his features.  Taking the new rules into consideration, he reached out and broke the powerful pose of Cas’ arms.

He took the alpha’s hand into his own and ordered, “Hey.  Look at me.”  It took a beat, but when he did, Dean grinned and asked with devilish glee, “You upset, or something?”  Yeah.  He was _totally_ enjoying this.

“I—” Cas was a second away from blurting it out, yet something stopped him.  Instead, he pursed his lips together and visibly attempted to ease the stick-straight line of his back.  “I don’t understand why you used them.  You never have before—”

Dean protested, “I do all the damn time!”

“With _me_ ,” the alpha corrected, his brow furrowed.  “You never use them.  With me.  Have I…made you uncomfortable?”

Oh.  This all made sense now.  And maybe Dean felt like a dick.  Except, the omega had done it for his own sanity.  To cover up his rapid-fire emotions, his head-over-heels heart.    
  
This motel stay was only for sleep, so they didn’t splurge—which made it the size of a damn closet.  In a tiny, budget room, without anyone else around for Dean’s scent to be diluted, he’d be given away for sure.  No questions.  
  
Kinda like Cas was giving himself away, right now.  Dean didn’t need to sniff the air: the scent of displeasure, the alpha’s worry, it wafted directly into his nose.  Nope, from the strength of that scent he knew, Cas wasn’t happy.

Dean had done this.  He needed to fix it.  No way he’d let this be over before it began, messing shit up between them so early!

Maybe the blockers gave him confidence.  Dean dared to sidle up even closer, to where he could drape his legs over Cas’, stiff and jutting outward.  Dean took hold of his other hand, too, not needing ask for attention aloud because the tender touch drew Cas’ gaze toward him.

“I’ll tell you the truth, then you do the same.  Straight up, all right?” Dean led in, capturing the alpha’s full focus.  “You’ve been a shit.  On _purpose_.  Don’t get me wrong, you’re just as much of’a damn genius: getting us acclimated to the courting game so it comes to us like second nature.  But some of the stuff you’re throwing in there?  It’s to fuck with me, and _only_ to fuck with me.  Am I right?”

The barest tinge of a smile tugged the corners of Cas’ lips, that tell was enough.  Still, Dean waited for words.  He wanted those words.

“There…maybe some fact to that assumption.”

“Maybe?” Dean deadpanned.  “I almost crashed into a tree.”

“Yes.  Fine.  I’ve been provoking you, but it’s all in good-humor.  You must admit, the subject matter leaves endless possibilities,” Cas urged, trying to push as much sincerity in his words as was already there in his scent.  “The situation is unique.  It’s fun, and I know; I shouldn’t enjoy teasing you like I am.  You’re so adorable when you’re flustered.”

“And see?”  Dean violently shook their joined hands, “You telling me _that_?  Would have us both choking on my awkwardness!  Yeah, I get flustered!  And embarrassed.  I can’t help getting anxious about that shit, it’s not a switch I can flip off.  Right now?  Here?”

Dean gestured to their joined hands and half-linked fingers.  To their comfortable, physical and almost-intimate contact.  Both were unintimidated by this newly-crossed boundary, which was why Dean felt it even _more_ important to say, “This is good.  I’m totally good, here.  It’s easier than I thought, being with you like this.  But, uh, some of the things you say?  They can stress me out.  You know, Cas.  Words, BS, and things to live up to—they freak me out more than actions.”

“You’re correct.  I should have used my head.”  There was no hesitation, Cas confessed and pleaded, “Can you accept my apology?”

Just like that, Dean found himself inside an effortless burst of laughter.  “Of friggin course.  You couldn't do a damn thing I'd never forgive you for.”

He didn’t know why he did it: maybe because he was dubbed in charge in this area.  Dean, naturally as natural could be, raised their interlocked fingers and kissed the top of Cas’ hand.    
  
Before, he was filled with alarm and questions, he made a quick choice to explain, “You wanted to know why I slapped on the blockers.  There’s your reason.  If you can promise me not to be a jerk, I won’t have a reason to wear ‘em.”

“Understood.  I won’t give you a reason,” Cas vowed.  “Until then, I must state something you may find disconcerting.”

Dean groaned loudly, “ _Motherfucker_.  Just…out with it!”

“I plan on being the big spoon.  Indefinitely.”  It was decisive, Cas _wasn’t_ budging.  
  
...Even though Dean knew damn well he could sweet-talk Cas into changing his mind if he really wanted to...

But Dean had a couple of previews of Big Spoon Cas in action.  They’d woken up after a few sleepovers, finding they’d been drawn together during the night.  And maybe Dean had felt safe.  He’d felt comfortable as hell with Cas’ arms and legs tangled around him.    
  
That didn’t mean Cas had to know _or_ Dean would make it a walk in the park.  The alpha lost his brownie points and Dean had blockers on his side for a while longer.

Dean decided he could mess with Cas, he friggin deserved it.  “Oh really?  Is this your alpha surfacing?”  He withdrew his legs from Cas’ lap and released their grip, as he began to settle down against the mattress.  “You need to protect and hold your helpless omega through the night?  Fend off threats?”

Cas slowly followed him down, frowning.  “Even you know what you’re saying is nonsense, Dean.”

“I know,” he agreed with a comical snort.  “So you’re planning on cuddling tonight?  Starting practice early, champ?”

“ _We_ are planning on cuddling tonight,” Castiel corrected, pulling the sheets back to allow them both underneath.  “Is that alright, my omega?  This is something I know will be expected of us.”

“If you say so,” Dean tried to sound put-out as he rolled over, because inside—

Everything was rainbows and unicorns.  He felt light, happy, hell, he felt downright ecstatic.  When Cas wrapped his arms around Dean and they shifted to find the position—where they aligned, both so relaxed and warming each other in the slight chill of the motel room—he released a happy sigh.  Why hold back?

Dean wondered if it was a reflex or muscle memory that had Cas humming contentedly and pressing a kiss to Dean’s cheek.  Well, fuck.  It didn’t matter to Dean, he was on cloud nine!

It was dumb, but Dean honestly _did_ feel safe, in the way that this was where he belonged.  It wasn’t like on his own he needed protecting, fuck no, this feeling in his chest was completely different—palpable, instead of passive.  
  
In a moment where all the walls were down, right when their bodies melted together...wait, Dean _couldn’t_ have made this up...no way in hell.  Those scents wafting from the alpha _had_ to be real, right?  As subtle as he could, since obnoxious sniffing or diving backwards for Cas’ neck wasn’t an option, he tried a long, deep breath to—   
  
_—Damn_.

What Dean found in Cas' scent was unlike anything he could have prayed for.  Maybe there _was_ a higher power...this slice of heaven in his lungs, it gave Dean hope that he wasn’t a pining, lone jackass.  Cas' genuine fondness was tipping over the edge towards something amazing...reflecting what Dean had blocked.  Was it too much to wish for?

“Sweet dreams, Cas,” Dean whispered, his tone tinged by an unexpected bliss.

“You, too, Dean.  I’ll see you in the morning.”  Cas nuzzled against the back of his head, and, yep.  Dean was pretty sure he’d died, floating above his own body in a heady daze.  
  
See—he _knew_ he’d never make it back home alive!

This was multitasking at its finest.  While they were pre-gaming their charade, Dean was also unexpectedly fulfilling everything he fantasized about.  And they were only _beginning_.  What the hell was going to happen once they hit the big-leagues?

All he wanted to do was lay here, soak up every second being wrapped in the alpha’s arms, so he’d never forget.    
  
The problem with that was how _quickly_ he melted inside Cas’ arms.  Plus, the dizzying rush of his scent acted as the ultimate sedative and, well...Dean was lulled to sleep way too fast to do much memorizing at all—

Maybe it was better to get the minor bumps out of the way—especially if the follow-up was a happy accident.  When Dean’s alarm went off, it was only a matter of time before the alpha emerged from the shower, as planned, greeting Dean with a cheerful smile..  

Everything felt right.

They never really unpacked, so it only took jamming a few odds and ends into their bags before they were back on the road again.

Halfway through the drive, Cas’ hand even ended up on Dean’s thigh.  It wasn’t sexual, it was supportive.  

Because when the blockers began weaning, the alpha’s nose could detect small nuances of nerves.  This time, it wasn’t about Cas: it was the inevitable encounter with his family.    
  
They were getting closer and closer, mile by mile, and yes—something as simple as a warm, reassuring touch did _wonders_.  
  
Even with Cas’ calming touch, Dean’s head was all over the place.

Would it work?  Would his family even buy it?  If Dean _himself_ could believe enough to commit wholeheartedly, or would he flashback into that bumbling piece of shit he was last night.    
  
He had to wear blockers to deal with Cas!  His _best_ fucking _friend_!  What was he supposed to do when he faced his entire family!?

Dean could feel the muscles in his hands throbbing, they were cramping up, and he glanced at the time.

“Heya, alpha?”  Luckily, that word lightened the heavy crap in his head, Dean being able to grin ever-so-slightly.  “You wanna drive for a little bit?”

Cas had a visceral reaction, jerking up at attention.  “I…I mean, I’d love to.  But the only times you’ve let me drive was when I was sober and you weren’t.  Oh, and that time your insane ex-girlfriend was holding her for ransom.”  He added with a low whistle, “You still haven’t forgiven me for hot-wiring her…even though I rescued your hostage and saved the day.”

“It was annoying, trying to put the dash back together!  Anyway, there’s a reason you’re the only one with the extra key.  Even though you forgot it in your ‘daring rescue.’”  Dean clucked his tongue at the memory, and while he flipped on his turn signal, he recalled, “You put the fear of God in her.  Didn’t know you had all that fierce, friggin feral alpha in you ‘til that moment. That was badass, dude.   _Darling_.”

“I had a reason.”  He chuckled as Dean pulled into a gas station in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.  “No one  _thinks_ of using Baby as collateral.  She had no idea what she got herself into.”

“Besides pissing herself and running like hell to stay alive.”  He shifted the car into park and hopped out to stretch his legs.

Castiel followed suit.  Walking around, even in a circle, felt pretty damn great right now.    
  
After stretches of aimless strolling and a trip inside the mini-mart, they grabbed some snacks and a drink each.  While carefully monitoring the time, on their trip back to the Impala, Dean tossed the keys and Cas caught them in mid-air.

Still, the alpha was concerned.  And whenever worry entered his mind, his way of dealing was always to nip it in the bud.  Cas loathed brewing, he didn’t allow small issues to build and build on themselves until they were monsters for the sake of avoidance.  It was lazy, pointless, and he didn't like to see Dean upset.  
  
Right as Dean was setting his snacks and drink into the passenger side, Cas used a hint of alpha speed to duck behind him and grab him by the hand before he could shut the door.

While Dean reflexively jerked back in alarm, he huffed and let the alpha lead him to a picnic table.  That didn't stop him from making a scene and stomping like a child the entire way.    
  
They both sat on top, their feet perched on the bench seat.  A small lull passed, Cas always gave Dean the chance to bring things up on his own.  If the omega stayed silent, Cas had no issues… _helping_ _him_ move the process along.

That’s what happened.

“Dean, what specific part of the trip, the visit, are you least confident in?” Cas asked softly setting his hand on Dean’s knee.  “Is it your parents?”

“Nah.”  He wiped a hand down his face, clearly wanting to get out of here.  But they’d set rules.  Rules that also involved communication.  Finally, the dam broke all at once, Dean blurting out, “Are we even gonna fool _anyone_?  Am _I_ gonna buckle?  Are you gonna be friggin _miserable_?”

“Huh.”  It was flippant.

The omega whipped around, his scowl fierce.  “C'mon, bro!   _Babycakes_!  I’m freaking out!  What do you mean, ‘huh?!’”

Castiel tried to be as transparent, as open and easy to read as possible.  “Out of everything—I mean everything—that I _thought_ you’d worry about.  Of all the things that you _would_ be correct to worry about.  Those…are not it.”

Before he was burned alive by the fury of his ‘future mate,’ Cas pressed on.

“We don’t need to fool anyone.  We only need to be who we are.  With some…small modifications.  All those we’ll handle in the moment.  How on Earth could you buckle when we’ll be interacting as we do every single day?  Yes.  Somethings will be new.  I apologize for when I’ll have to kiss you, but we’ll move on.  It’ll be a funny story later down the road.  We live it up and play to win the game on the table. There’s always alcohol to ease the ride…” Cas reminded with a sly smirk.

Slowly, Dean appeared to be talked back from the ledge.  Although, the hushed, “What about you?” seemed more important to him than…well, _anything_.

“All of our adventures end up as classics.  How the hell could I be miserable, being with you, acting like we’re in a movie?  Pretending we’re spies, infiltrating enemy territory,” Cas enthusiastically used the metaphor for Dean’s benefit, and it worked.

He was glowing, the questions answered with all the right words: they were both truthful and attainable.  “Damn straight, we’re spies!  And you’re my femme fatale.”

The snort erupting from his nose caught Cas off guard, but he agreed, if only to see Dean’s vibrant light again, “All right.  I’ll be your femme fatale.”

“Good.  You ready to drive the getaway car?  Or…get-to car.”  As they hopped down and began walking, Dean dared to place a hand on the small of Cas’ back and wonder, “If you had to guess…how many times have you talked me down?”

The alpha appeared thoughtful, twirling the key around his pointer finger and shrugged.  “Just enough.  Because you’re still here.”

“I’ll take that.”

Dean honestly felt lighter this time as they miles closed in.  Instead of nerves or fear of failure, he was almost excited to take on this task with Cas by his side.    
  
_Christ—_ how did Dean, even for a second, think he could do this without Cas: fake boyfriend or not?  Like…how could he have made this trip solo—ignoring the wide-eyes and opinions of his family?

It was insane.  Dean was fucking insane.  Yet, somehow...he got blessed with someone who knew how to handle his own brand of insanity.

It never happened with anyone but Cas.  That was, Dean falling asleep while someone else was behind the wheel of his baby.  Somehow, he nodded off.  The rumble of the tires on the asphalt, the familiar music as a lullaby over the speakers.  Or, most likely, it was Cas’ scent.  It calmed him in ways that worked so much better than popping a Xanax.

Once he caught a glimpse of the time, though, he dove for his phone.

Dean was punching in numbers while Cas denoted a change in the omega’s scent and greeted a smoothing, “Good morning, sunshine.  Sleep well?”

“Heya—”  Oh, damn, his voice was horse, “Slept too well.   _Too_ long.  Was supposed to call my brother,” Dean explained, turning the music off.

“Oh,” Cas realized with mild alarm, “I apologize, I would have woken you, if I’d known—”

“You’re fine, promise,” he assured, listening to the ring tone trill away.

Eventually, a disgruntled Sam answered.   “Dean!  What the hell, I feel like a chick ditched at prom!  I’ve been waiting around for you to call me and—”

“Sorry, sorry, baby brother!  I nodded off and before I knew it, I,” now, the time the numbers on the clock actually sunk in, “Oh, _damn_.  Yeah, guess my power-nap turned into a couple'a hours—”

“Does that mean you’re not getting here on time?”  Genuine anxiety colored Sam’s tone.  “I had no idea you were so tired.  You should’ve sucked it up and flown, I mean, at least you could sleep on the plane—”

“No, no, no,” the omega assured with a hearty-belly laugh, “We’re still right on time, ahead, if anything.  Only the phone call’s late, not our arrival—Cas has been flyin’ down the highway the whole time I was out.  Had no idea I was so tired.  But, yeah—”

“No stops, either,” Cas added and announced, “You're correct, we’ll be arriving early.”

“Ya hear that, Sammy!”  The omega was vibrating with excitement, but the other end of the conversation…kind of went dead?  “Heyo, bitch!  What’s up!”

“Cas has been driving?  Unattended?  Driving the _Impala_?”  It was creepy how Sam’s voice lacked any fluctuation, “While you were sleeping.  For _hours_?”

“Uh.  Yeah.  He’s my best friend.  And my future mate!”  It was cheeky, because his brother was the only other person in on the scheme.  “Let’s drop the Baby convo, what I wanna know is the arrangement when we get into town.  How soon does the party start?  When does the fam arrive?  Where the hell are we even staying?  I‘m gonna put you on speaker...”

Sam sucked in a shaky inhale, and maybe…Dean didn’t really comprehend what a massive, well: _gesture_ , it was to trust anyone with the Impala so freely like he had.  Normally, he was backseat driving, hovering and freaking out.  With Cas?  He snoozed like a newborn.  
  
He didn’t think twice.  And Dean was here, maxing and relaxing—Sam was still hundreds of miles away, having a breakdown!  Which, now that he was more attentive and the fog had cleared, actually seemed more reasonable...huh.  Well, Dean guessed he and Cas mutually gave each other the 'absolute trust' package that came with this trip and Baby was included.

“Okay.  So I’m having my friends and you guys out first,” Sam said, collected and organized.  “We can go out, have a _real_ celebration at a bar, and I’ve got a guest bedroom and a pull-out couch, you two can fight over it.”  Cas and Dean exchanged knowing smiles, because, hell yeah, they’d gotten down their spooning positions, and sharing the guest room, it was!  “Next morning, everyone starts arriving at different times, different flights.  We’re all meeting up at my house.  All the other renters have taken off for the summer, so there’s room for people to hang out when they get here and catch up, then we’ll all go out for a big dinner.”

“Kay, I’m with you,” Dean let him know, because it was a huge-ass download of information.

“After the family dinner, everyone goes to their hotel room for check in and unwinding.  My Law School’s ceremony is the next day.  We do another round of celebration, and hopefully by then, we’ll know how long people are planning on sticking around.  Who's hanging out, when flight departures are, that stuff.”  Sam sighed.

“Sam—”  It was Cas who spoke up, “You sound absolutely exhausted.  When we get there, please.  Let us help in any way we can before the family starts arriving.  This is supposed to be _your_ day, _your_ celebration.  Dean and I intend to assist you, however you need us.”

“Oh.  Wow…”  Disbelief painted Sam’s voice, but quickly after, it was his smile that proudly outshined it, evident through the phone.  “I, uh, really, really appreciate that.  Fuck, even the thought's awesome.  I’m about to rip my hair out, I can’t handle this shit.”

“But your glorious mane is what makes you, you!” Dean cackled and threw his head back.  “I gotta tell you, though.  Cas?  He means business.  So be ready to get your ass pampered, okay?”

"You know that firsthand, huh?"  It was a natural teasing jab—but after a beat, Sam confessed, “You guys…I _really_ needed this call.  For my sanity.  And I can’t wait to see you two.  Text me with updates, all right?”

“’Course we will, little brother!  Just keep taking deep breathes, and we'll see ya soon.”

“All right, jerk.  See you soon.”

As much as they wanted to make the final push in one go, it wasn’t logical to drive through the night and straight into the next day.

When Cas and Dean discussed it, there was one, singular make-it-or-break-it point on the ‘Pros and Cons’ list.  One subject that affected them both—Sam.    
  
With Dean’s little brother in mind, well, their choice was made for them.  It wouldn’t do the stressed out graduate any good if Dean and Cas’ stubbornness made them screw up the whole schedule.  Sure, they were aching to make new records for time across country, but a motel would have to do.  
  
Sam needed people to _support him—_ not a pair of road-weary dumbasses—who greeted him, then instantly abused his kindness and hospitality by passing out in the guestroom until they went out that night.    
  
Ever since addressing Dean’s own worry about the trip, the conversation changed and his focus naturally shifted to his little brother.  It was how the omega was built.

Cas had pointed out that napping in the car was a dead giveaway Dean hadn’t been sleeping well leading up to this event.  He didn’t blame him, he’d be surprised if he hadn’t lost sleep with all the stress.  
  
Castiel took one look at this whole messy situation and counted himself lucky.  He was mostly estranged from his own family, he didn’t have the pressure of mating on his back and it was different for an alpha.  He voiced it, hoping to help Dean by reaffirming the standards were toxic.

Dean had made an offhand remark about his little Social Justice Warrior when they pulled into the motel.    
  
After they settled into the space, was when it really hit them: Palo Alto was only a day away, the family gathering the following.

“You’re excited to see Sam,” Cas said with a knowing smile, the smallest hints presenting in Dean’s scent.  “How long has it been?”

Dean turned towards him and drew out a long hum.  They were both sprawled on the bed, watching TV while they unwound.  It was then that Cas worried about his comment, hoping he hadn’t provoked Dean enough to reach for the blockers again.    
  
He was fucking addicted to the omega’s scent and when it was gone, things didn’t feel right.  His inner alpha didn’t like it whatsoever, making the previous night... _difficult_ , to say the least.

“Huh…” Dean rolled over and knocked against Cas, both men laying on their stomachs in front of the screen.  “Has it been a year yet?  No.  He came home for a long weekend, because his exam schedule was wonky.  Don’t you remember—”

“Club Luna and the accidental lap dance?” Cas supplied helpfully.  “You’re right.  It’s been close to a year, but not quite.”

Dean‘s eyes doubled and he snapped, “Hey!  You assholes had me so boozed up, I would've hopped up on a pole with no lessons!”

“Well, it _was_ Sam’s fault.”  The alpha was grinning mischievously, “He suggested the swiftest way to get Meg off my back was help from _you_.  The method was entirely up to—”

“You _always_ attract the psychos,” Dean grumbled but there was also a fondness from the memory of that wild night.  “It was the only way I could figure out how to scent-mark you on the edge of the dance floor!”  With an open laugh, he bumped a fist into Cas’ shoulder.  “The three of us had a blast, didn’t we?”

“Yes,” Castiel confirmed wistfully, trying to remember the evening as a whole, rather than fixating on the way Dean had drunkenly (albeit, briefly) swiveled and rolled his hips, right fucking there, in Cas’ lap.  That part, he could never forget.  Abruptly clearing his throat, he said, “The three of us always have a good time.  I’m looking forward to our evening tomorrow.”

“Maybe…” Dean drew in Cas’ attention, flicking a finger under his chin, “You can return the favor, huh?  It’ll be like Sam’s bachelor party, for college!  Bound to get a little crazy, right, alpha?”  He winked before stretching out and yawning.

God.  All this teasing, and needing to be the one who remained in control…it constantly left Cas with a dry mouth and the makings of an untimely erection.  Except, the entire mission was more important than his persisting, undying want to be the mate Dean wished him to pretend to be.  He had to be strong.

Dean was waiting with an eyebrow raised, probably curious about the pause.  
  
So Cas agreed, “If there’s a chance to give you a lap dance, I suppose I could attempt it.  Although, you were gyrating quite well—almost _too_ well—for it to be your first time.  My version will be a hollow reenactment.”  Reaching out and running his fingers through Dean’s hair was Cas' way of and savoring that light blush and using action to make the omega comfortable—as suggested by Dean.  He'd use that as an excuse to touch any chance he could... “Shall we sleep?  Prepare for whatever’s thrown at us tomorrow?”

Of course, Cas’ eyes honed in when Dean sucked his lip between his teeth and chewed it, he wondered if he was being as obvious as he felt?

“Think that’s probably a good idea.”  Dean hopped up, and Cas acutely felt the warmth leave from where their legs had been tangled.  “Shower in the morning!”

When Dean made that choice, returning to the other side of the mattress for bed, he peeled off his shirt and wadded it on top of his duffle.  “Phew, it’s hot in here.  God knows yer gonna make me sweat, too.”

That was it.  Cas would rise to the occasion.

He sat up and turned to lock eyes with Dean, suggestively wondered, “Oh.  Is that an invitation?  Or a challenge, of sorts?”

The omega was busy shimmying under the sheets, when he countered, “Why don’t you come find out?”  Dean was clearly gaining confidence in their ‘unit dynamic,’ more and more by the day.

Dammit, it was fantastic and dangerous at the same time.  Castiel wished this was an invitation he could take Dean up on.  Except, he knew the banter was needed for Dean’s own morale, building him up to go against his family.    
  
He needed to feel comfortable with _them_.  Dean already felt comfortable with Cas, they were closer than two best friends had any business being, and it hadn’t been a problem.  Until now.

Having a taste of what you hungered for?  It was a peculiar form of torment, mixed with pleasure all at once.

And it took a cool head to analyze the lines: to know what was too much and what wasn’t enough.  Cas felt himself obligated to watch those lines, it wasn't Dean‘s duty because he was in the line of fire.

More than that?  Cas wanted this to go flawlessly.  He wanted Dean to feel safe, secure, and happy next to him, while he held his head high—fearlessly walking together among his family.  When that day came, Cas would follow whatever intimate cues Dean threw his way, because that was the omega’s territory.  Whatever Dean initiated, Cas was ready and he could only dream about how brave Dean may be by then...

Right now, making a move didn’t benefit Dean’s courage or morale, it wasn’t something Cas could act upon in good conscience.  Above all, he yearned to take care of Dean, and being trusted with the matter was huge.  He wouldn’t fail.

Although, when he joined Dean under the covers, he also tugged off his own shirt, saying, “Now, will this lower or raise the temperature between us?” impishly, finding his own creative way to ask permission.  “You know, this doesn’t excuse you from being held tonight, correct?”

“Oh, golly, alpha.  I sure hope not!”  Dean was oozing sass and Cas wanted to kiss that look off his face.

Instead, he did one better by ducking down and lightly nipping at Dean’s exposed collarbone.  The most lovely half-moan, half-yelp echoing in his ears made him want more...  “What did we discuss about respect?” was how Cas explained his actions, and he felt it made just enough sense to hold water.

Dean babbled out, “I-I-I’m sorry,” with a luscious, instinctual submission that Cas should have been prepared for, but wasn’t.  Luckily, Dean was still mouthy, and surprised the hell out of him, through a calm, “I’ll give you all the respect you deserve.   _When_ we have an audience,” then the omega lashed out, returning the favor.

Grazing his teeth along the juncture of Cas’ shoulder.

The wind was ripped from Cas' lungs, and if Dean previously appeared baffled—Cas had just outdone him, because he was slack-jawed and shocked.  Dammit, the way Dean was downright thrilled with the reaction and himself was the visual that jolted him from his stupor—

It took everything in Cas not to pin Dean down, not to mark him with the imprint of his own rough touch from head to toe, and make him scream...fuck, he prayed that his scent wasn’t as a savage as his thoughts—

Judging from the way he was reading Dean—goddammit—they _were_.    
  
Suddenly, the air in the room was heavier, it was harder to breath and the space between them was too far.  But if they closed it...there was no turning back.  Both Cas and Dean knew it, and they were locked in a stare-down, at a stalemate, that was maddening.

Both men slowly, inch by inch, lowered themselves to the bed from where they’d been all puffed-up chests, inches away, ready to break.

God, it felt like years.  Then, it felt like eons had gone by, before Dean stretched out and turned off the light.  Cas had no idea what came next, he wasn’t sure if he needed to make amends, if he needed to—

In the darkness, Dean maneuvered seamlessly up against Cas, depositing himself right into his arms.  He made it so simple.  All the alpha had to do was wrap around him.

Cas wouldn’t lie, he sighed in relief, tilting his chin down far enough to breathe in the scent of Dean.

It was all right.  They’d managed to stand down, Cas held himself back, they worked their way through that close call.  Everything was still in place, their foundation was too strong: Cas had to remember that.

Even if they had to pause and review, the alpha and omega ended up exactly where they should be—together or faking it, holding each other through the night.  

Although this night?  Could possibly be the first that Castiel had experienced the sensation of Dean’s skin pressed to his own.

God.  How on Earth could he turn back after this?


	3. Chapter Two

Being able to work out their final timetable over breakfast was amazing.  Yes, _breakfast_.  In a real diner, and not coasting through some drive-through garbage on the road.  Dean also had texting, calling and driving rules about Baby and it was the ideal time to finagle the fine print.

“All right, so if we get in at seven, we’ll have time to order delivery like Sam wants and freshen up.  By that point, we’ll be ready to head out and give your brother the night he’s earned—and from the sounds of it, _needs_ before he loses his mind,” Cas reiterated, slicing through a stack of waffles.  “Even factoring in rush hour, our excellent system may have us arriving before then.”

“You mean our system of no stops, no sleep and powering ahead like the idiots we are?”  Dean’s scent was fond, chuckling when he added, “Kinda shocked that our cross-country record-breaking travel time hasn’t caught the eye of any cops on the interstate.”  
  
“Knock on wood.  Getting pulled over would most certainly ruin our chances for that record.”  The mention of time had the alpha glancing at his phone, knowing they should be wrapping it up soon.  “I have a feeling we’ll be able to get some rest, and fall back into a normal schedule once we’re in Palo Alto.  I'm sure at least part of your extended family does function like normal humans, unlike what we've been doing the past few days.”  
  
“Heh, I wouldn't be so sure.  But hell yeah, being early, means more time with Sammy!” Dean rubbed his hands together before attacking his second serving of bacon.  “Don’t you think it’s weird?  Or do you think he really does need it that bad?  With how Sam’s _aching_ to party?  It’s like…the first thing he talks about.  Schedules around.  I mean, I’d be okay if it was just the three of us, hanging out and shootin’ the shit before people start flockin', but—”

“I believe you answered your own question.”  He shot the omega a significant look, waiting for the idea to sink in.  While waiting, their waitress returned, Cas thanked her for the coffee refill.  He realized then, he’d have to spell it out.  “You’re not the only one stressed by your family, Dean.  It’s clear Sam is, as well.  He’s been constantly studying, constantly neck-deep in books and prep material so he could graduate.  School doesn’t stop there, he faces a bigger challenge next—passing the Bar Exam.  He hasn’t had time to come up for air, let alone a chance to let loose, and soon he'll be faced with a massive group he feels obligated to please.”

"Yes, Sam is desperate for this reprieve," Cas pointed at Dean with his fork, “Also remember that he's said it before—we’re the fun ones to go out _with_.”

“Damn right, we are!”  The omega sat proud, tossing another greasy piece of bacon in his mouth.  “And you owe me a lap dance!”

“If the situation presence itself,” Cas made a sweeping motion with his arm and chuckled.  “A better, and slightly odd question is…what do we tell Sam about sleeping arrangements?”

“You’re right, he was pretty adamant with his Savior Complex, one’a us getting the guest bed, and the other getting the pull out couch.”  Reaching for his coffee, Dean had slapped his ‘thinking face’ on.  “I mean, it’ll be hard to flip the switch, in and out of character, just for one night, right?”

“And we’ve been working hard on being comfortable with a lack of personal space,” Cas added, attempting to sound blasé.  “It would be a shame to regress back with all the headway we’ve made.”

“You almost wonder…” Dean tossed the rest of his coffee back and waved at their server for more.  “What if we _fooled Sam_?”

Cas snorted and folded his arms, “I believe that would piss him off.  Being lied to, that is.”

“Hear me out!”  Dean leaned so far forward, he was almost another dish on Cas’ plate.  “We don’t _lie_ , we keep doing what we’re doing.  Remember, stay in character?  And…we see what he thinks.  He’ll either call us out, say it’s bullshit, or ask questions.  Then—”

“ _Oh_.  You’re a genius.”  Cas brightened at the realization.  “We’d be able to have an unbiased party pointing out holes in our story.  Sam could assist us with a dry run and address what needs fixing.  Or we may not need fixing, he may assume we _are_ together.”    
  
With every considered angle, Cas gained steam, it was a fantastic idea!  The omega was right, they’d never directly lie to Sam—but if he made the assumption on his own, they were an absolute success!  Although, Sam was also their last chance to be individuals, and that weighed heavily on the alpha’s mind as well—   
  
“But Dean…” Cas pursed his lips, attempting to hide his nerves.  “Are you _sure_ you’re to stay stapled to my side?  That you want to be?  Even when there’s a possibility you could find someone at this bar or club Sam’s planning on?”

The trickle of hot coffee distracted both of them long enough for Dean to bounce his shoulders, doing a little dance in the booth.  “C’mon!  You should know better than that!  _How_ many years ago was my last one night stand?”  While Dean was using this as a cover, he had the same concern about Cas.  
  
What if the alpha didn’t want to be stuck with Dean?  Cas always, _always_ had omegas lining up around the block, desperate to meet him, stick their noses where they didn’t belong to see if he was something special.

Sometimes, Cas would let them.  And that would _kill_ Dean.  No one knew better than the omega that the special things about the alpha were _endless._    
  
Mostly, all the chicks and some dudes cared about was the surface scraping and Cas didn’t seem to mind, that’s all he’d offer anyway...  Yeah, Cas’ exterior was also… _very nice_ , Dean had to admit.  Maybe Dean was the exception, to know about all those other things beneath the surface—he didn’t think he could recall a time when Cas had been in a serious relationship.  He was open and... _affluent_ when it came to sex.  Dean didn’t know what bothered him more...  

Currently, he could pin down exactly what would do the most damage.  He sure as hell wouldn’t let Cas’ attention waver on a trip like this.  If the alpha looked anywhere that wasn’t him while he was living the dream, Dean would go full-out bonkers, especially out at this bar!  Maybe that's what he was hoping to keep from happening...

Castiel appeared thoughtful about the omega’s question, and settled on, “Was it the woman from the cowboy bar, back home?”

Dean cringed, obligated to correct Cas.  “It was the Cowboy Mascot guy from the Western Bar.  What can I say, I’ve got a _thing_.”  It was cheesy, corny and dumb.  At least that beta was hot. “It’s my kryptonite!  And that was a long friggin time ago!  I can't believe you remember that!”

With a nod of appraisal, Castiel and Dean were both able to finish breakfast in companionable agreement over their plan.  They grabbed a few things for the final stretch of road, making sure the only breaks they’d need were at rest stops. The countdown was on, nine more hours until Dean saw his little brother.

He pounded on the wheel in excitement, cheering, “Nine more hours, baby!”

Cas smiled affectionately.  “After all the hours we’ve logged, we’re practically there, Dean.”

The reunion between the Winchester brothers a huge, behemoth breath of fresh air.  
  
Finally being together, in person, made them feel that much stronger because they could count on each other.    
  
There had been a time growing up when it was Sam and Dean against the world.  Through the years, they both had their own issues with their parents, and Dean would take a bullet for his little brother.  They’d always been close, there was this mutual feeling of solidarity, and fuck, had they missed each other.

They fully intended to exploit Sam’s first chance to kick back.  Especially with the impending, stressful follow-up the _very_ next day.  Dean could tell that he and Cas making the choice to come out early did wonders for Sam.  They could see it from one second they walked into his house.

Dean knew, because he was going through the same goddamn thing himself.    
  
With Sammy, his anticipatory anxiety was gone.  They could pretend it was just another one of their fun weekends for a hot second.  Dean was lucky to have not only Cas, but Sam’s support...and his feedback—even though Sam wasn’t exactly aware of his role.  Or the fact he had a role at all...   
  
And because of that, _tonight_  it sounded like Dean could step it up.  His intentions about their interactions (turning _into action_ ) in their dynamic would be free game.  It’d have to be, _if_ they wanted to gauge Sam’s reactions about their ’relationship.’

No matter where the night took them, they’d have have a blast.  They always did.  The three had countless stories, spanning years of friendship—some retained more memories than others, all of them—priceless.

Cas and Sam had cultivated their own relationship, growing close enough to regard one another as brothers.    
  
There had even been times when Sam was facing a problem and needed a more…delicate approach and steady hand to assess the situation.  Sam knew both he and Dean would act emotionally—they'd jump to the nuclear option—and having Cas there for advice was _invaluable_.

He’d saved a couple of Sam’s personal _and_  professional relationships.  
  
Even to this day, Dean had no clue that Cas was Sam’s ‘phone a friend.’  
  
Tonight was the calm before the storm, a 'family free zone.'  Their only job was to shake off the stress, live it up and party.  Which should be enough of a deterrent to keep Sam from asking about their ‘fake relationship,’ and how it was going, right?  Because that topic was ‘for the family’ business.  
  
It gave Dean and Cas a chance to make them look real.

They were pregaming with a bottle of booze Sam’s roommates left in the house (he didn’t give a shit which one it was) and were balls deep in take-out boxes of Chinese food.  While they lounged around the living room, chatting to catch up, Sam didn’t seem to notice the way Dean was leaning against the alpha, while they dug into their food.

And drank their booze.  Since the drinking continued once the food was long gone, and it was time to get ready.

While in the process of finishing up, both Cas and Sam flipped through their wallets to make sure they had their IDs and cash, as Dean finally joined them.  Seeing the omega (specifically, what he’d changed into) stopped both alphas in their tracks, triggering an impromptu fashion show.  
  
Sam was aghast, demanding, “That’s all you have to wear?!” after Dean walked out in his usual jeans and flannel.

“What?!”  Dean self-consciously covered himself, even though there was nothing to cover, “Who am I trying to impress…?” he shot a ‘help’ expression over to Cas, wondering if he really looked that terrible.

No—you couldn’t pay Castiel to get involved between the two brothers, no way, no how.

“You’re trying to impress _everyone_!” Sam said in exasperation, “The point is to drink for free.  We’re—”

“Wait a minute.  You’re taking us to a gay club, aren’t you?” Cas very suddenly realized, and the confirmation of Sam’s wicked grin was all he needed.  He’d done this before, Sam was a repeat offender—

When the truth came out, Cas’ gut dropped.  While they _had_ spoken about being a couple tonight, their destination was a club that catered to _Dean’s_ own, specific preferences.  Could Cas deprive him, without wrestling his own guilt?

“ _That’s_ why you’re so concerned about what the fuck I’m wearing!” Dean accused and shoved his brother.  “What are you wearing?!   _Dammit_ , Sammy!”

“Nothing wild!” he balked and reached into the closet, “Skinny jeans, v-neck, leather jacket and boots.”

“Lemme guess,” Dean stared blankly, then offered a drab, “ _That_ _one_ v-neck?  The one that v’s all the way down to your goddamn happy trail, you _skank_.”  He turned around and threw his arms up in the air, “What about you, Cas?  What do you have?”

“Something similar.  Distressed.  A more muted color palette,” he answered evenly and calmly, night and day from the omega’s complete and utter exasperation.

“Great!  So ya’ll will be drowning in free drinks and countless guys, and _I’ll_ be the ugly wallflower in the corner who—”

“Dean,” Cas’ voice held a warning, a sharpness.  “What did we say about respect?”  He stood up and closed in on 'his omega' until he was right in Dean’s face.    
  
The feeling of Sam’s eyes on his back didn’t bother him, instead, they acted as a provocation.  Instigating the alpha’s gut response, acting without hesitation.  Cas took the step further and cupped Dean’s cheek, awaiting an answer, his thumb brushing the omega’s cheekbone.

“I’m sorry,” he fumbled out.  “I know I’m not ugly, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m just frustrated.  I wish I’d have known what to pack!”

“Better.”  Cas kissed him on the forehead and retreated, then—before Sam could say a goddamn word—he turned to the younger Winchester and decided, “Why don’t we look through your roommates wardrobes?  We’ll only be borrowing, right?”

Oh, Sam _loved_ that idea, and soon—Dean did too.  “Hell yes.  Ready to walk the runway?”

When they finally rolled up to the club, Dean was oozing confidence and Cas was having trouble keeping his eyes away.  Even though he was hanging off Cas’ arm, the way that everyone watched him, wanted him—it brought out a possessiveness Cas had always worked hard to hide.    
  
He had to remember he could act with _pride,_  Cas didn't have to be jealous, not tonight.  After all, right before they'd jumped into the cab, they’d confirmed it one last time—no take backs—Dean _was his_ tonight.  Cas could let everyone else be jealous of _his omega_.

“Hey, I think I see a table!”  Sam shouted over the music and flagged them over towards the corner.  “We can hold it until my friends get here!”

That sounded great.  Another drink _also_ sounded great.

As Cas ushered Dean ahead of him to follow Sam, his ass in those low-rise skinny jeans…holy hell.  It was perky and so grab-able.  
  
When they dug into the closet, they’d found a nice, slate-grey button-up, and rolled it to Dean’s elbows, showing off his forearms.  To finish the look, Sam brought out one of his sleeveless vest, made of nice leather.

There were a few meaningful bracelets and rings Dean never took off, adding anything else would be overkill.    
  
When he hopped up on one of the bar stools, Cas took a moment to soak in the sight and smile.  When he noticed that Sam was staring with intrigue, he turned around to see what was what with the drink situation.

It was very clear, Cas had to do something about it.  

He leaned over on the table and said, “No way the servers will fight their way back here to take our order.  I’ll go to the bar, what do you guys want?”

“Shots,” the brothers said together, paused, continued to hold eye contact and, once more together, said, “Beer.”

“Should have known,” Cas rolled his eyes, but before he could make his escape, Dean tugged him back by his jacket sleeve.

It was the best way to reel him in, plant a kiss on his cheek, with a tender, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Don’t worry about it.  I’ll try to be quick.”  His hand fell to Dean’s back and lingered _just_ long enough…and Sam was _just_ buzzed enough—

Sam dove forward to demand, “Dean!  When did you guys make the switch?!  I mean, I was _always_ banking on it, there were bets for a while with my friends, but it took _so long_ the pool fell apart!  It’s about time, you two are so perfect for each other.”

Dean was surprised _and_ startled by this burst of information.  Betting pool?  One that already dissolved because they ‘took too damn long’ when it wasn’t even real?  Sam knew they’d get together? …Even though they weren’t?  
  
Far be it for Dean to ruin his dreams, right?  So long as Dean kept away from overtly lying, that was crossing the line—

“This is new,” Dean admitted, because for the most part: it was.  “I mean, before...sometimes we’d pass out together.  Now, we cuddle every night because we choose to.  He’s…good for me.”  Those kinds of confessions were easy, Dean felt them so damn strongly.

“He really is good for you,” Sam sighed, his smile and happy scent radiating, “God, I’m so happy for you guys!  Wow!  Just… _wow_.”

“Drinks have arrived!” Cas announced, pulling the Winchesters from their bonding moment.  Both leaned back to their seats awkwardly, feeling caught in the act, but the alpha barely even noticed.    
  
Cas was too busy attempting to balance everything on a tray he’d stolen from one of the servers.  But he’d give it right back!

“Sweet!  Sweet,” Dean rapidly nodded and took the shot glass, Cas returning to sit next to him.

Sam was wearing a shit-eating grin when he raised his glass and enthusiastically pronounced, “Tomorrow is gonna be about me, so here’s a toast to _your_ future!  May you choose every new, special moment and treat it as such, and may your mating be none of our family’s fucking business!”

The toast gave Castiel whiplash, still managing to clink their glasses together over a hearty, “Hear, hear!” while Sam got all wistful, staring off at Cas and telling him, “I’m glad you’re making an honest man out of my brother.”

This happened much sooner than the alpha had anticipated.  He side-eyed Dean—complete with a knowing grin, since he _would_ find out what happened while he was at the bar.  Until then, they’d act accordingly.  See if Sam bought them being together as the night went on.  

Cas slung an arm over Dean’s shoulders: an effective ‘hands-off’ sign to all the oglers that kept staring at his omega.  He pecked Dean on the cheek and said, “I’m surprised he came clean about us so fast.  Usually, he’s a little more hesitant.”

“I figured it out!”  Sam was proud of his detective work.  “You guys are _totally_ different than the last time I saw you.  This has been a long time coming.”    
  
As he swigged his beer, Cas wanted to groan out ‘if only.’  If only there was a sign, or Dean spoke out more clearly, declared his intentions when it came to them.

There were countless tests before them that didn’t have anything to do with family—others had to do with defining who they were and what was between them.  This overt sexual tension becoming commonplace between them.  
  
All those teasing invites...would they continue in the future, as their new normal?  A new element to their already-unheard, unique kind of friendship?  
  
Or was this it?  Bam, bam, bam—and it’s over.  Back to random sleepovers, special-occasion cuddles, and anomalous happenings.  Cas couldn’t live like that.  If things went back to _that_ , maybe he _would_ spill his guts.

Cas agreed, “It truly has been a long wait for the inevitable, hasn’t it?  I don’t know why we kept digging our heels in.  All of our back and forth was senseless.  Especially, because we were in the same boat, experiencing the same problem.  If we simply paid attention to our noses, rather than fabricating excuses, we could’ve enjoyed each other much sooner.  We would’ve wasted a lot less time.”

“Oh, I know,” Sam was beaming like a kid on Christmas morning.

Cas was thrilled it was going so well, and Dean?  Who knew what was going on in his head, he was chugging booze.  After the omega finished his own, he moved onto Cas’.

Dean loudly interrupted, “Shit, babe, I’m sorry!  I’ll get us another round,” then pranced right off.

Nerves set in.  Yes, it was a point on their list to see if they could convince Sam.  They had.  
  
Yet the sign of Dean drinking liquor like water?  Was it because he didn’t want his brother to believe what they’d set out to accomplish?  Did he regret it?  Was he keeping up the facade to hide his true feelings behind it?  Had they made a mistake?

Cas watched Dean disappear into the crowd, and barely heard Sam calling his name.

Eventually, when he turned back around, there were four more people at their table than before, and Cas retracted as hugs were being passed around.  Sam was speaking animatedly to these new arrivals, holding off on an introduction, pointing into the crowd.

Only then did Cas realized Sam was waiting for Dean to get back—that they now came as a pair.  Interesting.

A clunk on the table told him the omega had.

Cas had caught Dean’s anxiety like a virus, suddenly he was second-guessing everything, a fact that was ridiculous on its own!  Nothing rattled the alpha unless it was a genuine need for concern, yet this weekend had him on his toes for random oddities—he hated it.  
  
Before anyone caught sight, Cas grabbed the shot Dean brought back and took it.

Sam was rowdy.  While speaking with his friend, he tossed around exaggerated hand gestures extending all the way through his arms.  Fuck, he was going to knock something over in no time—  
  
Of course, Sam was a distraction, but Cas could feel eyes—Dean’s eyes—wearing heavily on him.  He didn’t know if it was good or bad.   _Thank God_ , he had an answer: Dean's weighted gaze turning into touch, linking their arms and he didn't stop there.  Dean moved their chairs closer together, close enough for a statement, without being in each other’s laps.

Just as Dean leaned forward to say something, Sam turned back to the pair with an eager, “Hey!  You guys, this is Brady,” he began pointing out the newcomers one by one, “this is Ruby, Max, and Dean, you know Charlie!  You guys, this is my brother, Dean, and his alpha, Cas!”

The redhead omega dodged around the table and effectively yanking Dean away from Cas and downward into a hug.  She shouted over the music, “Dean!  It’s been for-friggin-ever!   _This_ is Cas?!  Oh my God!”  In the next second, she pulled _Cas_ into the hug, startling the hell out of him with her enthusiasm.  “I feel like I already know you!  It’s so good to _finally_ meet you!”

And…Castiel was _not_ expecting that.

“It’s nice to meet you, Charlie.”  The words were warm and kind to match her own, but…how long had Dean been talking about them?  And in what regard?  This actually gave him a flicker of hope.

Charlie waggled her eyebrows and poked Dean, saying, “So you finally got over your fears and manned-up, huh?”

Dean’s scent…Cas wouldn’t have believed it, had he not experienced it.

It shot to a red alert, flashing with intense puffs of embarrassment, but more than anything: relief.  Like Dean had been outed, but that…was okay.  Like Charlie (this random, yet close friend) knowing about him and Dean _was okay_.    
  
Dean’s ability to embrace tonight, to allow almost-acceptance, and live _this_ moment was cathartic.

His chuckle was nervous as he ruffled Charlie’s hair and said, “I know, right?  Took me long enough.”

“Yeah, AKA—as long as I’ve known you?!”  Charlie pitched her voice over to Cas, pretending she was telling a secret and stage-whispered, “Do you have _any_ idea how long this dude has been in love with you?”

“Charlie!” Dean snapped, then (oh, fuck, this _wasn’t_ good) he began to withdraw.  “Stop that shit.  I need to talk to you.”  The omega didn’t even look at Cas when he snatched up her arm, hauling her away.

And there it went again—the aching tightness in his chest.  Cas wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what Dean was telling her.  Or rather—correcting her.  
  
There was more wiggle-room with Charlie, she could know it was all a farce.  They seemed to be close enough, Dean could confess all he wished, maybe he regretted their choice with Sam.  Maybe Dean was venting to the other omega about how he was sick of the charade altogether...perhaps this had been the tipping point.  
  
Dean had a hell of a reaction, something had happened, that much was certain.

Crestfallen, Cas focused on the beer Dean had brought for him.  He proceeded to the untouched shot the omega hadn’t taken and debated.

...It was only fair.  Dean drank his beer, which had separated them before and gave him a reason to head to the bar.  With a shrug, Cas commandeered the omega’s shot and swallowed it down, then picked up the beer.  He sighed and began to chug, watching Sam continue to speak animatedly with his friends.

Suddenly, the crowded bar closed in around him.  
  
Cas felt the joint was much more crowded than before, the music pulsed much louder, bass vibrating against his skin, even the flashing lights on the dance floor were brighter than he’d like.  
  
At the very same time...he felt alone.  Unable to even guess what kind of conversation Dean was having with Charlie, he guzzled down the beer and decided to take a break.  A hiatus from all this pretending for just a bit.

Castiel was good at moving silently and swiftly.

No one even noticed him leave the table.  They were already drunk, distracted, and he was able to disappear into the crowd.

He knew from buying the drinks and scouting around there were two active bars in the establishment.  He also knew the group would be going back and forth between the first Cas had visited, and where Dean had followed-up at, too.  It was a direct shot from the table.  That was why Cas decided his need for privacy (as well as liquor) would be best suited for the other bar on the far side of the club.

It was easy, in the dark haze behind the dance stage to dodge around and sidle up to fill an empty space—as a woman cashed out—near the edge of the bar. ...Even when he had to turn down a handful of omegas beckoning him towards the dance floor.

It was easier being served here by a flirtatious waiter, paying as he went—shot for shot.  Cas had come to learn (and in this case, accept) that the waiters who tried to entice weren’t only looking for greater tips or interested parties after last call.  They were also _very_ generous when it came to drinks: pouring with a heavy hand.

It was easy to close his eyes—just for a second—and smell air that was absent of Dean’s scent.  

A breath filled with nothing but complete strangers.  This actually turned him off and made his nose scrunch up.  How ironic, that the smell of something unpleasant would be a momentary salvation to keep him from losing his mind.    
  
Honestly, that’s what Castiel felt like.  As though he was slowly going mad.

They (and the night) had the potential to be amazing, but he wouldn’t count on it.  Cas couldn’t trust himself.  At times, he wasn’t even sure he could trust Dean.  
  
Whatever they had between them, it was profound, powerful, but any label may break the pureness of it.  Deep down, that was all he wanted to do.

Evolution.  Everything evolved, so why couldn’t they?  They’d both pushed that boundary, but never _together_ , never at the same time.

Tonight felt like it could be it, like it could be the right time.

Until Charlie.

Until Dean’s reaction to teasing, followed by their sudden departure.  That…had been _all wrong_.

Cas had no idea how long he’d been gone and separated from the group.  It couldn’t have been too lengthy or extensive.  Although...he _was_ quite drunk…

With the bartender very interested and equally attentive to him—combined with consistently ordering double-shots—he was flying high, on the road to success.  Well, Cas was making a poor attempt to numb his overactive brain, his metaphorical heart, and if it were _possible—_ to dull or drown his nose.  That would be nice...

Cas was casually chatting with the beta sitting next to him when he felt iron clasping around his wrist, like a shackle.  He spun around to the source—a very flustered-looking Dean.

The omega yanked him so hard, Cas nearly toppled off the bar stool.  Now bowed forward, Dean hissed in his ear, “Where the fuck have you been?!”

“Uh, here?” Cas guessed, because even though it was the truth; it didn't feel like the answer Dean wanted.  “You took off, and Sam was engrossed with his friends.  I grabbed a drink.”   He paused to see Dean’s grip was clamping down hard enough to cut off his circulation.  Cas pronounced, “Dean.  Let me go.”

He huffed and tried not to make a show of shoving off Castiel.  His words resounded with deliberate overdramatics, “Oh, so sorry, _alpha_ ,” then waited a beat before asking, “Did you ditch me?  On purpose?”

“He sure wasn’t looking for you, honey!” the bartender whistled and slid Cas one more shot, playfully rumbling, “That one’s on the house.”

Dean’s eyes doubled, Castiel knew he was in fight or flight mode, and while he’d never known the omega to run—these days, things were changing.  Especially tonight, he’d magnificently failed to get a read on Dean from the start.    
  
Although...Cas sure wasn’t about to turn down liquor when it was free, right there, in front of him.  Not after establishing a good relationship with the bartender and knowing it'd be top shelf and worth his while—  
  
The alpha made an executive decision, one where there weren't anymore surprises.    
  
Cas returned the favor.  He grabbed Dean’s wrist, making damn sure he _couldn’t_ chose flight (how did Dean like  _that_ , now that the roles were reversed?), and he easily took the final shot.    
  
With Dean wrangled, he took the time to enjoy the way the booze burned, savoring every second of sensation.  The alpha sighed happily as he tracked the slosh down his throat and into his stomach.  Cas thanked the man and promptly turned back to the omega.

“Did you even look before now?” he asked coolly.

All of that chaotic fire inside Dean—  
  
It fizzled, and his hand went limp.

“Ah.”  Cas nodded in understanding, he knew Dean better than he knew himself.  “You were with Charlie.  You two were chatting, speaking of things you didn’t particularly want me around for.  Then, you returned to the table, finding out from Sam I hadn’t been there in quite some time.  You got pissed off.  Then proceeded to go on a rampage, searching to find me, and, yes, you found me.  Except, at the beginning of at it, you must remember: you had left first.”

Castiel watched with intrigue as Dean’s eyes shined, his expressions fluctuated ever-so-slightly and his scent just- _barely_ gave him away.

Tilting his head, the alpha wondered aloud, “Is it fair?  That I decided to get something to drink?  Or would you have preferred me to have sat there?  Waiting for you?  Being monitored by your brother?  What, exactly, are you worried about?”

Now that the words had been verbalized, Cas was genuinely curious.  He’d broken down all the facets, all the holes in Dean’s story, and ‘just friends’ wouldn’t cut it for Dean’s freak out.  Not this time.

Dean looked like he was _so_ damn _close_ to cracking, Castiel pushed, “Should I be worried about you being with Charlie this entire time?  What’s going on, here, Dean?  Do you think I need a babysitter?   _Really_?”

“I don’t know,” Dean muttered, and it was only because Cas was tuned to hear his voice, that he picked it up over the rowdiness of the club.  He repeated, softer still, “I don’t know,” with his eyes falling to the ground. “Tonight was supposed to be different, now it’s fucked—”

Cas hooked his fingers under Dean’s chin and forced his attention upward, asking, “What was supposed to be different?”

“It doesn’t matter.”  Dean’s eyes wouldn’t connect with his, and he spat out, “I’m sorry,” before he turned around and tried to take off.

The alpha was faster.

He managed to catch Dean’s hip, hauling him back in, and ordering, “Meet me outside, I need some air.  Whenever you’re ready.  Don’t worry, we’re not leaving.  I think we need to talk,” in his ear from behind.

Cas released Dean, noting a fumble, a misstep as he tripped forward—there was no doubt the omega heard him.

Shaking his head, Cas was relieved he’d thought on the fly.  Now that he was standing upright, he truly needed that air.  He was wobbly on his feet.  Thinking back, he couldn’t even recall how many drinks he’d ordered sitting there, bemoaning his entire existence.  God, he was pathetic, and he wouldn’t succumb to that level of absurdity.

Black and white facts: he was blessed to have an incomparable friend like Dean.    
  
He was trusted enough to be here.  The idea of wanting more was _selfish_ , he needed to get his shit together.

The first step involved going outside and assuring an exceptional omega that everything was fine.  Because, even if Cas thought his own little world was a cracked snow globe, that _couldn’t_ affect Dean.    
  
Yes, the omega _was_ his everything, and as such—he needed to make sure that Dean was happy.  Everything else was secondary to Dean.

If he couldn’t do that, what the hell did he have to offer him?

Walking outside felt like Dean was marching off to war.

Except…there wasn’t a higher ranking officer telling him what to do.  He was being fed to the wolves.  Or that’s what his stomach told him.  
  
He couldn’t avoid this.  Not with excuses, derailing the train, hell, even using Sam as a distraction for them both!  It was just because he 'had to,' or things would get weird.  It was jotted down in the rules (the list Dean had scribbled out right before they’d jumped on the road), plus, Cas had played the alpha card.  
  
And Dean...well, he also wanted some answers.

God, had Dean felt entitled.  He felt entitled as fuck, when he heard Cas had taken off like that!    
  
Although when Cas broke it down logically, putting the situation back into perspective?  Wow.   _Dean_ had been the asshole.  Now, he had to—for lack of a better description—pay for his crimes.  Tell Cas that he had been wrong.  About _everything_.

When Charlie had came at him like an attack dog, he knew that his poker face wasn't enough.

Sam was cool.  Sam was in their corner and sure, Charlie was, to a certain extent, but she…she had _no_ off switch!  No filter!  And Cas didn’t know her to understand the way she was built.

That’s why Dean needed to talk with her one on one.  He needed to give her more information, more details and more _truth_ than what he could offer with Cas present and over his shoulder.

In order to get Charlie to understand what they were, what was going on, Dean needed to be…vulnerable.  Something that wasn’t possible in a giant fucking club, with their friends scattered, and Cas _right_ fucking _there_ to witness it all.

Dean needed to open up to her and explain in small words: they were on the road, they were getting there, but most importantly: he was head over heels in love.

He was so goddamn in love, and she _couldn’t_ be the one to launch herself right in the middle of this as a cheerleader.  For his sake, Charlie had to be a bench-warmer, holding herself back from those gushy explosion—she needed to stop from riling and ruffling up a good thing.  Because this _could be_ a good thing!  
  
When he laid it all out, Dean had been impressed by Charlie’s response.  
  
He really thought it would take more begging to get Charlie off his case.  
  
She _understood_ , she gladly took to the idea of finesse.  He hadn’t seen Charlie accept something gossipy so...gracefully, like, _ever_.  If she kept something this juicy to herself, Dean would need to buy her some flowers, or something.  
  
By the time Dean had spilled his little girl heart out and joined back up at the table...no one knew where Cas was.

Turned out, no one knew where he’d been for a damn long time.

Cas.  AWOL.  Looking like _that_?  And _actually single_?

Dean _and_ his inner omega went fuckin’ ape-shit, needing to find his alpha, glue onto his side and demand answers.

Well, he found answers—right from Cas’ mouth—and Dean had been the one who fucked up.  He should’ve known, he really should have.  No way in hell would Cas let him down to begin with, let alone in some kind of nightmare-situation Dean had made up in his dumbass-jealous imagination.  
  
Consumed by adrenaline, the concept that  _his alpha_ had foundsomeone else to take home at _this club_  turned Dean into a lunatic basket case.  This weekend, no matter what happened before or after, Dean’s mind hadn't just warmed up to the idea, but firmly decided Cas _was his_.  He’d committed to the commitment-dream—so sue him!

Except now...Dean was about to face the music, with no clues about how this was supposed to go down, or what he’d say.  How to explain himself.  Dean was putting himself in the hands of fate, and hoping this fragile little thing didn’t shatter.

The night air hit Dean's skin with a crisp freshness that his lungs had been longing for, the city lights were brighter than the neon strobes were inside the club.  The exchanged chatter on the street sounded like faraway echoes, compared to the pulsing dance music.  Foot traffic on sidewalks was still alive with people traveling between bars and clubs, sweat and alcohol faintly traveled on the breeze but now Dean was sniffing out a different scent.

Once he detected a hint—Dean followed his nose.

Cas was sitting on the steps of a closed bank, leaned back and…wow.  Dean hadn’t realized how drunk he was until this moment.  Now _he_ was the one with questions.

The alpha boozed-up wasn’t anything new, but taking off and getting hammered, all by his lonesome?  That was a rarity.  They always got smashed  _together_.  Snaking a fifth from the bar, laughing, going shot-for-shot.  Yet, here they were.  Drunk.  Both by their own doing.  No, Dean didn't like the picture in front of him—even if he was dreading this chat in the beginning, it was necessary.  He knew it. 

Slowly, Dean climbed a few stairs and scooted down next to the alpha.  His sigh was shaky and instead of making eye contact, he focused on folding his hands, arms draped over his knees.

“Hey,” Dean greeted softly, “I’m sorry.”

It was eerie.  The way Cas was kicked back, slumped and disheveled, he was a frozen painting.  His hair tousled in the breeze as unfinished brush-strokes contemplated color.  While the rest of his body was a completed masterpiece: finished, dried and still.   _Fuck_ , was Cas a masterpiece...

After a pause, he said, “Don’t be sorry, Dean.  I apologize for making you angry.  I didn’t anticipate what you’d think when you came back.  I didn’t know how much time had passed—I suppose you don’t, either.  I’m trying to understand, but perhaps it’s easier to move on.”

Fuck.

Here Cas was, offering him an easy out.  A way for Dean to avoid explaining himself.  To avoid _any_ confrontation.  To _not_ have to _talk about them._

Any other day of the year, he would’ve jumped up and down and rejoiced.

But that was the thing…the thing that bothered the hell out of Dean.

“You’re giving up?” he wondered with his brow furrowed, feeling a nagging disappointment gaping at Cas.  “ _You’re_ giving up that easily?”

Cas chuckled lightly, humorlessly, his gaze wandering the streets and finally...he shrugged.  The first actual movement he’d made so far.  To show that he was human and not some robot.

“I’d debated.  I have so many questions.  Millions.  Especially about tonight.  But I wondered: are they worth it?  Are they worth me knowing the answer to, you becoming upset about?  Is dragging the truth from you, kicking and screaming, going to help us?  Is the process worth the results?”  He chewed his lips and Dean’s heart friggin ached. “I just don’t know.”

What the fuck.  Did he break his alpha?

He thought they were doing so well, Dean thought that tonight, maybe they had a breakthrough.  That all these baby steps were setting up for something amazing, that—

“The process is _always_ worth that results.”  Dean’s statement had another meaning, he was trying to pack it full of punch, fuel it with as much resolve and emphasis as he could.

So Castiel knew damn well he wasn’ttalking solely about an argument.

He fucking prayed Cas knew he was talking _about them._

Dean’s conviction did, indeed, capture the alpha’s interest, and _goddamn_ , Cas finally turned his head and looked at him!

Even though his gaze was curious, dazed, unbelieving—Dean returned it with determination.  He stared the alpha down like he meant it, his features set in stone, needing Cas to fucking _know_ he meant business.

“You say that...now,” Cas' words were barely audible when he mumbled to himself.  Right before Dean could launch, he cleared his throat and agreed—mostly likely to make the omega happy, “Yes, perhaps you’re right.”

“I _know_ I am.”  Dean didn’t know anything strong enough to even graze Cas’ strength, let alone be a wrecking ball he needed to get through to him.  How did Dean set things back on track?  Or would time be the cure—Cas waking up in the morning, both knowing, sober, that tonight had been a fluke?  He didn't want to wait that long...  “Cas, I am sorry.  I was out of line, you’re right.  I was being foolish and acting before I used my head, like I usually do.  You said you’ve got a million questions, right?”

The alpha continued to stare back, appraising him, so Dean continued.

“I won’t kick and scream, I’ll give you one answer.  No bullshit, no problems.  If you answer one for me: why did you take off and get so plastered?” he implored, the alpha was tanked, and Dean, during this (mostly one-sided) conservation,  _still_ hadn’t come up with a why or a how.

“Hm,” Cas considered, shifting around on the stone steps.  “Interesting ultimatum.  What if you’re not happy with the answer?” his voice was playful, yet the question wasn’t.

It didn’t make sense, but then again: neither did the alpha.

“I’ll take my chances,” Dean decided, and then took another risk: scooting in closer.  “So you gonna tell me?  Or do you wanna ask me something first?”

Cas finally looked at him.  Not like he was looking past him, staring off at him, briefly glancing—he truly focused on Dean.  As the omega wanted, the way that made Dean feel like he meant something to Cas.  
  
_Finally_ , he prayed this _was_ some kind of breakthrough!

“I thought tonight was going extremely well.   _Everything_ has been going very, very well,” Cas said wistfully and when he said ‘everything‘ Dean had to muffle the shiver that shot down his spine, remembering last night, too.  “Then, quite suddenly; things changed.  It was your idea to see if Sam believed we…were together.  You were happy he did, or so I _assumed_.  Yet, when Charlie did the same—you panicked.  You ran, you needed to fix her perception.  And it was _urgent_ , you seemed distressed and I—”

Cas left no room to be interrupted, even when Dean visibly fought to get a word in, the alpha persisted with, “Until you acted offended by the concept of your friend thinking I was your alpha, I hadn’t realized how much I truly _wished it—_ ” the earth fell out from below Dean’s feet “—I always knew, but the reaction, the embarrassment...I couldn’t sit there.  Not while you were righting a wrong.”

“Especially when the wrong _was me_.”  Castiel shook his head, finishing, “I needed to get away for a bit.  Get my head in the game.  Unfortunately, my head was a bit _too_ involved.  I required liquor to do so.”

Speechless, with his jaw hanging out, all Dean could think was… _no fucking way_ …

That he’d, not only just gotten the confession he’d been waiting his entire life, but Cas thought— _fuckingfuck—_ he thought that Dean was _embarrassed_ Charlie thought they were together?!

Dean pitched forward and buried his head in his arms, wrapped around his knees.  He wanted to scream, he wanted to sing, but more than anything: he wanted to fucking cry.

“Dean?”  Cas’ voice was scared, it was so tentative, especially when he said, “I probably should not have told you.”

“Yes!  You should have!  You are so fucking wrong, and I am _so pissed,_ because you are so fucking drunk and you’re _not_ gonna remember any of this tomorrow!” Dean shouted, half to the alpha, but mostly to the goddamn universe, even turning a few heads on the streets.  “Why did you have to get blitzed?!  I know you, I know your tolerance!  All of this?  It’s _gone_!  You‘ll never know it happened!”

With a wry chuckle, the omega about to lose his shit, he pivoted around to Cas and snapped, “I wasn’t embarrassed _of_ you!  I went to talk to Charlie because I’m embarrassed of my feelings _for_ you.  See the difference?  I needed her to calm down, not to give me away because we still have to make this moment, right here, happen in real life!  I never, ever wanted you to feel like that, _Jesus_ , it’s, like, the _complete opposite_!  I—”

Dean abruptly stopped, seeing how adorably confused and stupid-drunk Cas was and he rolled his eyes.  “You know what?  Fuck it.”

Normally, he’d never be this forward, but he knew this would be lost, a blacked out ‘nothing’ in a night of more ‘nothing.’  Dean had faith they’d have another chance, a better chance without the dramatic prelude, but he could not fathom Cas feeling heartbroken.  The alpha thinking, even for a second, Dean would be nothing less than thrilled to have him.

That’s why Dean forgot about the rough concrete stairs, he threw his body against Cas’ and locked their lips in something sweet, yet desperate enough to convey unequivocally _‘I’m yours_.’

It was awkward as they maneuvered around the harsh edges of the steps, Dean muffling a curse when he knocked his shin and scraped his knee.  Cas managed to stabilize them just enough to haul Dean close, making the kiss a powerful, loving, thank you.

Interrupted by a cat-call, their lips parted much too soon, obligated to pull away.  That magnetism between them, it wouldn’t allow them to leave the other’s space, not yet.  Still only inches separating them, the flame burning as they stared each other down in awe, begged the question—did that just happen?  
  
That was why it was so fucking hard to let go.  The proof was clear up close, desire and love in their eyes, pink lips from friction—but they couldn’t stay here all night.  It didn’t matter what _they_ wanted.  This was Sam’s night.

When Dean tried to make his way out of Cas’ lap, both were horribly uncoordinated and clumsy, they knocked heads.  It took them three different times to even attempt to stand up.  And Dean’s scraped knee?  Totally bled through the pair of jeans he was ‘borrowing’ for the night…oops.

They knew they were needed inside.

Right before they entered, Cas grabbed Dean and cupped the sides of the omega’s face.  “If you remember this in the morning?  Will you please be as forward as you were tonight?”

A blush rose to tint Dean’s cheeks, and that spoke for itself.  Slowly, getting lost in Cas’ gaze again, his hands covered his alpha’s and he savored the moment.  “We’re gonna get here, Cas.  You know that, right?  No matter what, we’re gonna be together.  It’s just a matter of time.  Even if we forget tonight, we’re meant to be.  I’ve always known.”

A brilliant smile flashed across Cas’ face when he wondered, “You’ll be my omega?  You’ll be my mate, Dean?” and stole a kiss.

“Yes,” it was a fearless whisper against the alpha’s slightly-swollen lips.  “And I know you, Castiel Novak, won’t wait forever.  And I don’t want you to.”

“God, I love you…”  It was a blissful purr in his chest.

Dean kissed him once, a chaste peck, before he pulled away.  “You know, tonight?  Everyone thinks we’re already together.  We _can be_ together.  Even if we don’t remember tomorrow, we can live tonight on our terms because there, uh, isn‘t gonna be a tomorrow for us.  Not like we want there to be, not for a while.”  He took Cas’ hand and intertwined their fingers, gesturing back to the club.  “Wanna try this again, mate?”

“Yes—”  There was a vibrancy, a life and excitement brewing between them, as they stepped into the storm.  “Anything you want, mate.”

No one, not Sam, Charlie or anyone else in the group knew what magic was unfolding throughout the evening.  
  
There weren’t any clues that anything was out of the ordinary, of either alpha or omega drunk out of their minds while living their fantasy out loud.  Everyone assumed this was what a day in the life of Castiel and Dean was like.  
  
Yes, what Sam and his friends believed to be mundane, was something so fleeting and extraordinary.

Only Dean would end up remembering brief bits and pieces from the best nights of their lives.  
  
Their confidence, that they’d find their way to each other, was unwavering.  Until then, it was a waiting game, whether they knew it, or not.  In the meantime, things were very, very different…


	4. Chapter Three

  
  
“Fuuuuuuck—”  The way his pained groan reverberated was all _off_  because it was pressed against bare skin.  Dean paused, that was really friggin weird, he’d basically blown a raspberry in the form of a curse against—

Cas’ naked stomach?

Wonderful.  Just…wonderful.

The alpha squirmed under the vibration and that’s when Dean realized (despite his throbbing headache, dehydration and slight nausea) Cas must be ticklish.  He’d take his chances, just to cheer himself up since he felt like utter and complete garbage…

“G’morning, babe,” he grumbled, making sure that his lips and his breath were aimed _just so_ that he’d nail all Cas’ sensitive spots.

When the alpha wiggled, Dean began to snicker and he _would_ have apologized for waking him and teasing him—

If said wiggling hadn’t revealed that they were both buck-ass naked.

They had bigger problems to worry about.  With the sheets moving downward as Cas attempted to shimmy away from Dean’s annoyances, it gave the omega and his proximity an up-close and personal flash of Cas’ cock— _holymotherofGod_.    
  
He snatched up the sheet to cover himself and swatted Dean in the face, admonishing, “Dean!  Stop that!”

Although his cheeks turned red, and maybe his stomach was churning with impending desire (fuck, fuck, fuck—this wasn’t fair!) Dean still felt bold because he’d made the alpha squirm.  

While Dean tried to process what was happening, he kept coming up dry.  Maybe it was time to fish for any answers Cas knew, and that meant he needed to roll over.  Dean didn’t have a lick of shame, continuing to use the alpha to rest his head and adding a wink. “Ticklish, huh?”  A glare answered that question.  “Your abs would make for a better mattress than a pillow.  Firm.”

Cas reached out and smacked him again.  “Then why are you still down there?”

“Because I’m under your skin, and _nothing_ gets under your skin,” Dean announced triumphantly.  He wasn’t quite as confident when he asked, “So, uh.  Any idea why we’re naked?”

There was a heavy silence before Cas shook his head and admitted, “I…do not remember much of last night.  At all.  What’s the last thing you recall that isn’t blurry?”

Dean paused to _really_ think.  He stared at the ceiling while deliberating, making damn sure he didn’t jump to any conclusions.    
  
This happened all the time, waking up in bed together.  Yes, _and_ twice they’d been naked.  Except, those times they’d remembered and there had been reasons.  Once, had been skinny dipping, the other had been a hot night.  
  
Last night was hot...right?  He also remembered borrowed clothes, he could’ve been lazy and just chucked them into Sam’s hamper, that _had_ to be it!

Plus, Dean wasn’t _sex_ -sore, his body would recognize that feeling.  Especially since it had been forever since he’d gotten laid.  There was…his knee.  His knees hurt like hell, but the size of Cas’ cock would’ve, like, reminded him via his _throat_ if he blew him, right?  Yeah—that _totally_ sounded plausible!

“Dean?” Cas asked warily, the longer the silence extended, the more nervous he became.  “What’s the going on in that head of yours?”  He dropped his arms, letting his fingers casually run through the omega’s hair.

“Oh, don’t stop,” he moaned, melting into the calming motion.  “That’s doing wonders for my headache…”  His eyes fluttered shut and he tried harder to think, this time out loud for Cas’ sake.  “There was the gay bar.  Drinking.  I think Charlie was there?  I dunno, we pregamed pretty damn hard.”

“We’re going to have to ask Sam…”  Cas locked up, clearly having an epiphany and expressed, “Oh.  We fooled Sam.  Remember?”

While the words ‘fooled’ still sucked, Dean agreed, “Vaguely…we had to have, or else why would we both be in the guest room?”

“We would’ve ended up here anyway, you know that,” the alpha snorted out a laugh.  “Must have been some wild night.”  He had barely picked back up playing with Dean’s hair before he froze again, much to the omega’s displeasure.  “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Dean tuned in to listen for whatever Cas’ alpha ears were made for.  Damn hyper-sensitive alpha-genetics, honing into the slightest creaks of this huge house.  Although…maybe Dean _could_ hear footsteps.  The thing was that it was footsteps, like, _plural_ , meaning multiple people.  Unless the rest of the drunks stayed the night, this _wasn’t good—_

A knock on the door was followed by a hissed, “You better not be fucking,” through the crack, and Sam immediately letting himself inside.  After slamming the door behind, he threw his arms in the air with disbelief.  “You’re only getting up— _now_?!  You said you’d set your alarms!”

The fact he wasn’t at all phased by this scene, not even batting an eye, was _unreal_ to Dean.  
  
Catching his omega brother with Cas’ hands in his hair, laying on his bestie’s stomach, while their clothes pretty obviously strewn over the floor told—it told them one thing.  Yep.  Sam thought they were truly together and who knew _how_ they'd drunkenly kept it up all night.  
  
Oh, and there was the whole, hoping he didn’t walk in on them!  Sam really thought their tardiness  _could be_ due tofucking—huh, maybe Dean could introduce that suggestion to their list of expectations, since it was now 'a thing,' right?  In his dreams...

Sam stalked over and grabbed both their duffle bags—it was clear the couple was unable to currently retrieve them without scaring Sam for life.  His annoyance was clear by how hard he chucked them onto the bed, one aimed for Dean's _head_.

The omega tried to muffle any gut-instinct flares of distress from Sam catching them with their pants down—so fucking literally—reminding himself he had no reason to worry!  His brother was a’okay, totally cool and, fuck, he was handling it better than Dean was!  
  
Getting them back on track, Dean cleared his throat and asked, “Set our alarms for what?”

“God, if you didn’t have your tongues down each other’s throats all night, _maybe_ you would’ve heard me!”  Sam’s bitchface was bar-none.  “Hello?  Remember what _today_ is?  Remember what the first event is?”

“T-tongues?” Dean balked, but Cas swiftly intervened by slapping a hand over Dean’s mouth.    
  
At least one of their brains was still working.  “Your family is flying in.  Meeting here before dinner and settling into their hotels.  When do they begin arriving?”

“Thank you, Cas!  Apparently you’re actually as excited to meet the family as you said you were!  They're arriving _now_!”  Clapping his hand to punctuate his words, Sam got their undivided attention, “Dean, if you want coffee, you’re gonna have to go through Ellen and Jo!  Both of you, get your hungover, honeymoon-period asses out of bed and cleaned up!  The stakes are rising by the hour!”

“Fuck!” Dean jolted up, nearly forgetting to cover himself.  His focus whipped back and forth between Sam and Cas, finally shouting, “Then get the fuck _out_ , Sammy!  We gotta get ready!  I need coffee if I’m gonna _think_ about dealin' with Mom and Dad!”

“You better hurry!”  With a sharp finger pointed, Sam began walking backwards.  “Bobby’s coming within the hour!  It’s all downhill from there!  Cas, you might wanna wear something with a high collar.  Dean’s mouth did a number on you last night.”  He ordered (rather than suggested) on his way out, urging one more time, “Get moving!”

The door closed and Dean shot up, pushing through a wave of nausea that washed through his body.  At the same time, Cas’ hand rose to feel his neck, his eyes doubled in size.  The omega’s jaw was set, he was filled with gumption when reaching out to pry Cas’ hand away, demanding, “Let me see!” before lunging.

They were tangled up in sheets as they struggled, the alpha’s face pink and hand clamped down like it’d been glued to his damn neck—all so Dean couldn’t see!  The omega wasn’t going down without a fight!  
  
He got some leverage, digging both hands under Cas’ one, tugging and prying, growling and snapping, “Seriously?  What the hell!   _Why_ are you—!”

When Dean finally managed to yank away Cas’ steel-clad grip, the color drained from his face.  The alpha must have concealed it because he could actually feel the skin was raised under his own fingertips, which meant it was extreme.  
  
Cas...was right.  This friggin mark…well, it was a _mark_.  It was a huge big ol’ hickey-bruise looking thing, that Dean knew damn well he’d made with his _teeth_.

“Shit…”  He traced along the shape, his shock turning into a very, very real form of awe, because... dammit— _that_ looked good on Cas…

Dean wanted to leave something so much more permanent…this prelude of a claim looked _stunning_.

Without warning, he was knocked from his daze by Cas snatching up his fingers and the omega looked down to see a shit-eating grin.

“Look at you, Dean,” Cas’ voice was husky, bringing his hand forward and kissing his knuckles.  “You’re becoming quite assertive.  Claiming me with your mouth, pinning me down like this—I enjoy imagining last night, it was _you_ who put your tongue down my throat _first…_ ”

Before Dean could flee or retreat, Cas latched onto his shoulders, keeping him in place.  “Relax.  I’m getting into character.  Come here.”

“Go.  Where.”  Dean blurted out the words, because there was nowhere to go.  The space between them already almost nonexistence!  With a sharp inhale, then a slow, easy exhale, he corrected, “Where, _alpha_.”

“Good…”  It was clear a weight had left Cas as well, while he cupped Dean’s cheeks, tilted his head down and led him.  He went willingly, finding himself not only breathing in the soothing scent of Cas, up close, but on the receiving end of a sweet, forehead kiss.  “We can do this.  We’ve got this, all right?  I’ll wear a high collar.  Nothing has changed.  Remember, we’re acting just as we always have, no changes—merely additions.  I’m here for anything, _anything_ , you need and some you don't even know you need, okay Dean?”

They lingered there, both feeling safe and secure—together—in that moment of calm before the storm.

The morning thus far had been chaos since waking, they’d indulge where they could find any spare time.  

It had been stressful what-ifs and what-not’s questioning their memories, but these words, these actions were cement.  The alpha centered Dean in a way only Cas could pull off, and he remembered: yes.  They could do this, hell, as a team they were invincible.

“Fuck, you’re amazing.  Thank you,” Dean whispered it like a prayer, and (maybe it was leftover courage from his confidence last night?) naturally tilted his chin to kiss Cas’ cheek.  “You’re right, we got this.  Sam didn’t bat an eye, right?  That was a battle I never thought we’d win.”

“And we did it quite quickly.  No one will doubt us,” Cas promised.  “Hurry, take your shower, then I’ll take mine.  We really do need to get ready.  I feel like I’m covered in sweat, whiskey, and other's cheap perfume.  I'm sure there's also glitter in hard-to-reach places.  Not exactly the makings of a good first impression on your family.”

Dean couldn’t help but cackle, “Mm, that good combo is what drew _me_ in—when it comes to excellent first impressions.  I like it when my men sparkle.  Let me know if you need a hand with that glitter.”

Even though he was reluctant to pull away (the omega enjoyed the view too damn much—his position over Cas as well as the scattered ‘getting into character’ kisses) the alpha was correct.  Time was of the essence, and maybe he’d get another chance to pin Cas down again.  Or make it happen.  ...As many times as he could.

Something in Dean grew bolder by the day—he didn’t bother covering up when he strolled to the adjoining bathroom.  He took great joy in the way Cas’ eyes followed him.  Whatever happened last night had been something awesome…even though he’d never know what it was.

Sadly, with Sam convinced they were together—he couldn’t turn to his brother for 'gossip,' he couldn’t turn to _anyone_.  Too bad he wasn’t tech-savvy enough to break into surveillance cameras…except, if he saw what Sam was describing, he’d probably end up using it as porn.  
  
Shit, Dean had to get his head in the game!  

Jo and Ellen, he could handle.  They were a warm-up, he’d missed them, and he was damn lucky they were the first to arrive.  Dean would love a side of Harvelle women with his morning coffee.  
  
The real scrutiny would happen when it was high times to meet the parents.  Luck was on his side already, that luck—being Cas.  In all of Dean’s optimist (then both Mary and John had outstanding memories) he had described ‘his future mate’ in Cas’ image.  The alpha could be himself, even if he didn't know it.  
  
When ‘his alpha’ had assured him they could act just like they always did, the irony killed Dean—just how correct(ly unknowing) Cas was.  His gut told Dean he could trust Cas with this.  Even when he would _always_ leave that one, pesky (and telling) detail out.    
  
...what would Cas even think, if it came up?  
  
No, he didn’t have to worry about his friend, there was bigger, badder things out there, problems they’d be solving together,

God, the nerves were coming in hot, but with Cas with him—they were untouchable.  The omega knew that.  It was time to superhero through this shit.

Introductions.  Coffee.  Chatting.

Here we go: round one—ding, ding, ding!

“Hey!  Joanna Beth!  Ellen!” Dean greeted in excitement (digging into an energy reservoir he didn’t have yet) as he descended the steps.  “I’m gonna ask you all about your flight, but first—I’ve gotta introduce you to someone, then get some caffeine in my hand.”  He could be totally honest about it, right?

These women were friggin awesome, and they lit up when they heard his voice from the stairwell.

“Dean!”  He could scent Jo before she even spotted him turning into the hall.  Ellen dove right in for a hug and a hearty pat on his back, coupled with, “It’s damn good to see you, boy!” once he was in arm’s reach.  She pulled far enough away to give them space, to allow both men to walk down onto the main floor while the omega took in a deep breath.

“Just so you know, Mom and Dad are gonna be super jealous,” Dean grinned with his hand wrapped around Cas’ lower back, leading him forward.  He honestly surprised himself, to the point of amazement, with how easy and happy he was to tell Ellen and Jo, “This is Cas, guys.  My ‘mysterious alpha.’”

Cas’ transition extending his hand, being that genuine, awesome kind of guy that he was, was equally smooth.  The, “I’ve heard so much about you both,” was not only true, but the women could say the same.  So much so, Dean was able to use his alpha as a distraction while he went and filled up two mugs of coffee for them, reappearing to see everyone relaxed in the living room.

Sam included.  Cas, with a Dean-sized spot next to him.  Chatting animatedly with Jo.

This was good, this sight was fucking _great_ , and his alpha was downright ravenous for the coffee.  He hummed his appreciation and looked like he wanted to reward  Dean with a kiss, but he held back.  Except—

That’s when Dean realized....

This, right fucking here, _was_ Showtime!

While Cas had both hands cradling the hot mug, Dean cuffed a finger under the alpha’s chin and pulled him in.  For an easy, sweet peck on the lips.

Yes, _lips_.    
  
Oh, _wow_...it quickly melted into something fearless, making it painful to pull away from, but— _goddammit—_ no matter how he wanted to go back for seconds (and thirds), they couldn’t flaunt ‘too much’ in front of family.  Not yet, anyway.  Even though it wasn’t flaunting, that felt _wonderful_.

There was a piece in Dean growing bolder than he initially thought, and while Cas tried to maintain a proper poker face, something about him lit up.  It didn’t matter who was speaking, the alpha was definitely stealing glances at Dean when he casually said, “It’s been a good morning.”

Fuck yeah, it has.

Only time would tell what the afternoon and the evening would bring.  

So far so good, but the real test would come later.

For now, Dean would enjoy the moment.  Sinking back into the couch, nursing his hangover—the combination of his alpha’s animated scent and the coffee—it was a brand-new morning-after cure.  Being able to enjoy the non-stressful part of his family and his brother was much more of a vacation than what he anticipated as an obligation.    
  
All the odd, knowing stares Sam continued sending his way, especially when Cas took his hand and tugged Dean closer, were just that.

 _Odd_.

Shit, that’s what was putting him on edge, and left Dean wondering what had happened last night: his brother’s smug attitude.  Normally he and Cas would chalk it up to just another night and move on, but Sam being creepy like this?  Whatever.    
  
If Sam wanted to say something, he never had a problem holding back before, it may be just a matter of time.  Dean wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to hear it, but the brat would probably harass him—that’s what family did.

It turned out, John and Mary’s plane had been delayed.  Dean wasn’t sure if it was a small miracle or prolonging the inevitable.

As it stood, their parents wouldn’t be making it to the house at all.  They’d either be heading right to dinner to meet them, or dropping their belongings off at their hotel and _then_ swinging by dinner.  It depended on delays, traffic plus roadwork and things out of everyone’s control.

Until then, Sam’s house was filled with laughter, warm scents, and old stories from their childhood, with the Harvelle’s, Bobby, Rufus, and their extended family; Jody and Donna.  

Dean had been wondering in the back of his head if any of the Campbell’s would come.    
  
Events like these were always fifty-fifty chance, it depended whether or not Mom was on the outs with her father.  They’d always been on shaky ground ( _understatement_ ) when it came to Samuel.  While they loved their cousin, Gwen, she wasn’t likely to show up to a party representing that entire side of the bloodline solo.

It was probably for the best, Samuel was old-fashioned—like, back to the stone age, kind of deal.  He would have looked down his nose at Dean and Cas’ relationship, no matter how ideally it was ‘faked.’  

Samuel had been the one who made his thoughts known from the _second_ Dean turned eighteen: an unmated omega may as well have been sold off.  Like, archaically, sold-off.  With a dowry and shit.  It was fucked up.

Maybe that was the fuel that sparked his parent's agenda, too.  Samuel knowing that Dean had been ‘single’ for so long was something he and Mary constantly fought about, even when she assured him that Dean _had_ an alpha, it wasn’t enough for him.    
  
In his eyes, Dean needed to be mated, knocked up with a slew of pups or else he was worthless.  As though procreation was the only meaning behind an omega’s existence.  It sucked, too...when Dean was young, before he presented, back when they thought he’d present alpha—he’d actually been close with his grandfather.  They’d gone hunting, out to a few baseball games, normal family shit.  
  
Now, all Dean heard was second-hand conversations from Sam, and it was all about Samuel demanding ‘what kind of alpha puts up with his bullshit?’ when he received word of Cas.  Even though it wasn’t really _Cas_ -Cas, but make-believe-Cas.  
  
Who knew what the hell would come out of his mouth around this group of people.

Everyone would undoubtedly rush to Dean and Cas’ defense, and it would cause a stir.

When this weekend was supposed to be about _Sam_ , and only Sam.  No drama, no bitching.

This was a party, not a war-zone!  His little brother had kicked major ass.  Graduating.  Soon, passing the bar exam.  About ready to head out in the world and be a fuckin’ badass lawyer!  Dean was proud and friggin _delighted_ , and it, well, (it sucks to suck, Samuel) anyone who wasn’t here didn’t matter.

Dean felt like he’d been dreading this weekend for nothing.

The more time passed, the more they celebrated, the more Cas integrated and connected—Dean felt outright giddy!  Like, _where_ had this feeling come from?!    
  
His heart was impossibly light, the once-scorned butterflies were lifting him up instead of making him feel like his ribcage was going to explode.  That was new and welcomed.  He’d rather face warm and fuzzy shit than a heart attack, any day of the week!

Cas being here felt right, like he belonged.  Maybe it would’ve been weird if they’d said the truth, that his best friend was coming to the party, but Dean wanted him here anyway.  With or without the con, the alpha clicked.

Overtime, Dean felt like they weren’t even a con at all.

The fact started to fade early on, with the way their dynamic shifted and they began using pet names, then the cuddling and other small trade-offs.  Now?  
  
Dean couldn’t find where their friendship started and their…relationship?—ended.  They’d pulled off a good one, fuck, _Dean_ was fooled, too.  

That was also when he began praying he wasn’t making this all all up.  What if an honest-to-God real fledgling romance had developed from innocent bond they had now?  
  
It felt so natural to take that next step, using their instincts, while the omega crossed his fingers his bravery paid off.

The ball was in his court, Dean would be the one to kind of…push the envelope?  Just barely.  It was nothing to write home about, but it _could_ be if Cas followed his lead without question.  The omega’s ideas weren’t life-altering for anyone else, but possibly for _them_.    
  
If he played his cards right.   _And_ at the correct times.  It was a tricky (fun as hell) game, Dean looking for those openings and implementing strategy.

Dean was comfortable enough to steal cute, small kisses—the kicker (and The Test) was to do it when _no one else_ was around.  When they were alone.  
  
He was baiting the alpha, seeing if Cas went for it.  To see if he’d remind Dean that no one needed convincing.    
  
That’s when the most wonderful thing happened—

It was _because_ they were away from prying eyes, they acted like any other _normal_ couple would do in those circumstances.  The heat on those innocent kisses dialed up even hotter.  They wouldn’t be caught— they could get away with it.

Dean wasn’t throwing himself at the alpha, either, thank-you-very-much.  He had a little more self-respect than that!  Plus, it had to be slow, and subtle, if he wanted it to work.  What he discovered was this unspoken mutual…magnetism.

A small kiss around the corner to grab a refill, turned into one of them peering behind them, seeing if someone was coming down the hall.  Once the coast was clear—it didn’t matter whether it was the alpha or omega who instigated it—someone’s hand would tug them closer, drawing them back in.

Making that kiss extend a bit longer.  Transforming a chaste peck into an open-mouthed, heated moment.  Then someone would tilt their head to the side, seeking a better angle to steal the other’s breath away.

While it never turned into a full-on make-out, and they never crossed beyond the barest brush of tongue against parted lips: it was still a _great-big-something_.

Or it sure as fuck was to Dean.

It was enough for Dean to excuse himself to the bathroom for a pep-talk.  He needed to sprint and escape upstairs into the room they were staying in.  
  
The more distance the better, Dean was having some...omega problems.

Fuck, he _needed_ to gather his composure, to steady himself and stop any slick that threatened to leak out from between his cheeks!    
  
The rush, the build, the fact this was _them_ in motion—his chest tightened while hope washed through his veins.  Dean’s scent was probably running wild, and he couldn’t let desire flood out in a family-friendly environment!   ...No matter how valiantly his cock twitched at his fantasies.

All of it.  Over.  Kissing.

Like… _how?_  How did Cas have this effect over him?  Dean was fighting against his dick and desires because of Cas' lips, and he just...! 

Love—that was Dean’s answer.  He knew better than anyone, it was because he was in love and he never thought he’d get the chance to see his best-case-scenario actually play out!

But this was the wrong scenery, the wrong company—

Luckily, as Dean was collecting himself, he realized his toiletries were here.  With these kinds of circumstances, maybe using just a hint, the barest bit of blockers wouldn’t be a bad idea…  
  
He kept staring at them, debating the pros and cons, and finally made the choice to spray down his scent points.  Yeah.  This was smart.  Dean needed to cover all his bases.  It was for everyone’s own good.

Walking out of the bathroom, Dean's face was barely back to its normal color, when he was shoved back inside being struck with the force of a damn linebacker!

The ground disappeared as Dean was scooped up and lifted _onto_ the counter, and the door kicked shut behind them.  Cas had one arm around his waist, the other wrapped around his back, cradling his head.

Those previously almost-heated kisses?  They’d ignited to a blazing fire, burning hot to the touch.

 _Hell yes_ —Dean didn’t even have to think.  His arms shot out and looped around the alpha’s neck, legs wrapping around Cas’ waist to pull them closer, as he kissed him back even harder.  Except, all at once—

Cas stopped.

His hands barely retreated, tentatively hovering over Dean’s form before he rested their foreheads together.  The omega whimpering and began tugging at his clothes, trying to get back to those fucking addicting, delicious kisses—but Cas _stopped_.    
  
He attempted to retreat from Dean’s grasp, too, so he was forced to unwind his legs, frowning deeply.

“Hey,” Dean’s voice was hoarse, spilling over the brim with lust, and he _didn’t understand_ what was happening… “Cas, what are you…?”

“I…came to find you.  Dinner reservation will be delayed.  We’re all going to our hotel to check in.  Unpack for the graduation tomorrow.  Then we’re meeting up.”  Why did Cas sound so unsure?  He sure as hell didn't come in here with any questions—!

Dean finally grabbed his chin, forcing his attention and Cas...looked confused.  That wasn’t happening, there wasn’t a damn thing to be confused _about_!  No way in hell would he let Cas think that anything was wrong, because this, right here, was _excellent!_   Why was he hesitating when there was no reason to?

Playfully, Dean wondered, “Uh-huh, and you decided the best way to tell me was to corner me up here?” and leaned in to brush his nose along the hinge of Cas’ jaw, flicking his tongue.  “Interesting transition into sayin’ we’ve gotta hit it— _wait_.  Why do you smell like _that_?”

The omega recoiled, because Cas…he was guarded.  He did not detect anything that he _should have_ , especially with them one-on-one.  Not with the way things were building, all that sexy anticipation, the previous phenomenal scents _and_ the fact that the alpha had come in here, armed with the plan to attack Dean with his mouth.

Cas pursed his lips and wondered back, “Why do you smell like nothing?”

“Oh.”  Dean’s eyes doubled in size, “I…”  How did he say he couldn't control of his dick around Cas?  “If I’d known we were about to go to the hotel, I probably could’ve held off,” he admitted sheepishly, but it looked like that answer wasn’t good enough for the alpha.

Cas shook his head and traced his thumb over Dean’s parted lips.  “Let’s pack up.  Get there ahead of the crowd and settle into our new spot?  I’m sure you could use a break.”

“Was that a comment on the blockers?” Dean wondered, and followed Cas, close on his heels, as he left the guest bathroom.  “Hey, I—”

“Dean,” Cas stopped short and turned around.  When the two were chest to chest, Cas took on a very…intense and stern demeanor.  It was foreign and, damn, was it final.  “Can we do this?”

Instead of words, Dean nodded.

Something freaked Cas out.  Or set him off.  Or...something had done enough damage that all their work took a serious hit.  The omega decided he’d back away and observe, rather than hassle the alpha and make things worse.

This turn of event was frustrating, Dean thought they'd just built an addition of something wonderful.  Had it been torn down, as easy as that?  Whether the venture would have done them good or bad in the long run didn't matter, they had a strong foundation—they could (and would) bounce back from it.  Dean had faith in them.

Still, he was in the dark, Dean hated it here, because it took more concentrated effort to _read_ Cas.  The alpha he usually just came out and said what his problems were, but he wasn't biting.  Cas in control was like trying to get a line on a friggin robot: it would take time to get him to slip up, or pestering to get a reaction.    
  
The last thing Dean wanted was to piss him off, but if it came time?  Sure, he'd do it.  Communication was one of the rules, right?

For now, he’d pack.  He’d drive.  Then, they’d check in.

Before dinner, Dean _would_ crack this puzzle.  He wasn’t letting any small mysteries or misunderstandings get the best of them.  They’d come too damn far for that.


	5. Chapter Four

Everyone exchanged quick, “see you soons,” before taking different transportation to head over to the hotel for check-ins.  With all parties headed the same direction, Dean had offered rides, but the majority of his family had either rented cars or pre-planned carpooling with others when they arrived at Sam’s.

There was an unspoken (or in _Jo’s case:_  loudly spoken) thing about letting the ‘lovebirds’ have their time together.  Except, Dean didn’t feel very lovey when they were in-transit.

The small interlude consisted of Cas giving directions, Dean arguing with the valet, and being a pain in the ass by refusing to give up his right to park Baby wherever he damn well pleased!  Turned out, the place Sam linked them to was pretty fancy.    
  
Even though the swanky view of the lobby was a good distraction, going through the motions of check-in were monotonous and boring.  Well, _Cas_ did the check-in as part of his ‘duty.’  Dean supposed if they bumped into any of the family in the lobby, the alpha wanted to appear as such.

All alpha-y.  Taking care of business.  
  
Business that took endlessly longer than their usual janky motel would, all because it was a nicer hotel.  Funny, what difference _one_ letter could make.  
  
But back to Dean’s alpha—

Hell, he even let Cas carry his duffle bag, if it made him feel better.  They were arriving ahead of the crowd, having been the first to take off from Sam’s.  As they continued on, knowing they had extra time, Dean was all worried and nervous.  It was a fight not to bounce on his heels in the elevator—but he had to remember: he was wearing blockers.

Whatever signals Cas read from Dean through his body language were his own fault, he couldn’t scent him.  He was giving himself away already!  Dean needed to chill out, play it cool, and keep scoping out the scenery.  Appreciate their surroundings.  Who knew when they'd be able to spring for another upscale place like this again.

He opened the door for Cas when they found their room and whistled at the sight.  “ _Damn_ ,” Dean clucked his tongue, “This is a suite!  Is it our honeymoon or Sam’s graduation?!  I can’t remember!”  He rushed forward to the balcony and threw the curtains wide open, grabbing the handle.

Okay, Dean needed to put a little elbow grease into prying that sliding door open, the friggin thing wouldn't budge—   
  
It took him two failed attempts at yanking it open (heaving against the sill with every ounce of his body weight!) before it finally gave way.  The third tug was overkill, executed with so much force, the omega almost knocked the door off the track.  Oh—but the fresh air was worth it!

When he stepped out, he had to admit…their vantage point wasn’t much to write home about.  Although, being able to take a step outside—having a circulated air flow— _so_ worth it.

Dean was all smiles when he pivoted back into the room.  With a slight skip in his step, his momentum nearly sent him crashing right into Cas’ chest.    
  
Shit!  Why didn't Dean look where he was going and why didn't Cas wear a bell!?

“Woah—”  Dean’s hands shot up to grab the alpha’s shoulders, balancing himself as he laughed it off.  “Wanna check out the view?”

“Only view I need is right here.”  Fuck, those words came so easily to Cas, they rolled right off his tongue, and Dean could never understand how.

“All right, smooth-talker,” he snorted and patted him once, before ducking to the side.  Or _trying to_.  
  
Cas wouldn’t let him.

He stayed planted in front of Dean, blocking his path, no matter how he tried to sidestep.  The way they moved together, it was a dance—Dean’s two steps would cue Cas’ three, like a waltz.  Instead of swaying together…it ended with Cas backing Dean against a wall.

No words, reminiscent of their random encounters at Sam’s, but now...they were absolutely and completely on their own.

Dean didn’t know if he wanted to address this.   _How_ he’d even do it.  Did speaking about it move them forward or would it slow them down?  Because Cas’ hands on his hips had changed.  They weren't gripping him with the same kind of _intent_ they had before.    
  
In fact, the alpha was tense—frustrated.

Cas was given leeway, because Dean wanted (no— _needed_ ) to see what he'd do.

His forehead collapsed against Dean’s shoulder for all of two seconds, like he was gathering his thoughts, before he hooked his fingers through Dean’s belt loops and tugged.  It was experimental, seeing if Dean would be coaxed, pliable, and when the omega’s eyes dropped down to watch—Cas drew Dean’s earlobe between his teeth.

Oh, yes—that’s _exactly_ what he was hoping for—  
  
Abso-fucking-lutely, Dean shuddered while Cas sucked, licked and teased him.  Just enough to turn the shudder into a quake, make him whine and inspire a fight inside Dean to close the distance.  It felt like Dean was being baited and he had something to prove...or Cas wanted him to prove something—?

Since the alpha _continued_ to hold steady, keeping Dean trapped against the wall.  Cas' thumbs, though…those managed to slide under Dean’s shirt, brushing against his hip bones…softly, at first.  

Cas soon moved on to the straight-up torture.  He released the denim loops completely and caressing Dean's sides with the pads of his fingers, no longer anchored down.  All while, he—just barely—moved his entire hands under the omega's shirt.  Daring to dig into the muscles of his lower back, tracing the lines extending below Dean's hips, underneath _both_  his boxers and jeans—

And the alpha retreated.

Dean pasted himself against the wall to stop from launching at Cas or collapsing to the floor—he had to catch his breath—!  
  
_Holy crap_ , Dean knew he was babbling, he wasn't exactly quiet on the come-fuck-me-noises, and that… _happened._   He was clueless about the alpha’s agenda!  But Cas had one…and so far: it was diabolical as far as Dean was concerned!

Dean shoved Cas aside in a huff, struggling to compose himself before he passed out, and made a beeline towards his duffle bag.

He was trying to figure something out…

This time, Cas grabbed him from behind and spun him around until they were a breath apart.

Dean couldn’t test his theory, the alpha had beaten him to the punch.  As he was whirled around in place, Cas’ scent—God—it dazed him.    
  
Dean was hungry for the alpha, he wanted to taste him, he wanted to push that _last_  boundary in their way...but for some reason: Cas wasn’t doing it either.

“You waiting for permission?” Dean’s voice was a low rumble, his mouth dry and tacky while he stared Cas down—mere inches away.

Tilting his head to the side, at the fucking perfect angle to finally put them both out of their misery, Cas’ voice was purposefully innocent, “Permission for what?” and he just…  
  
...Fucking sat down at the edge of the bed!  
  
Oh dear Lord.  Dean was going to loose his mind, Cas' agenda wasn't merely diabolical: the alpha was a monster.

Dean was glaring something fierce, piercing, and while it was meant _to cut—_ nothing resonating or made it beyond any of the alpha’s defenses!    
  
No, the omega couldn’t do much damage when his cock was hard, at the alpha's eye-level, and he wasn't projecting any threatening scents.  Dammit!

—Was this because of the blockers?  Because he was sulking without Dean's scent and decided to torment him?  Or did Cas really, truly not read the _Jesus-let’s-just-fucking-GO_  vibes from his soulscreaming at him?!

Fine.  If he was going to play it this way...if Cas was going to drive him to the edge and keep this grade school game of Red Light-Green Light going…

Dean fumbled with his words, the piece connecting his brain and mouth had come unplugged.  See, he wasn't an idiot—Dean  _knew_ he no longer had any control of this situation: the longer Cas remained cool under pressure, the more Dean lost by the second.  
  
The only way to make it through alive was grasping something—anything—to take back control.  Dean knew he had to get away from Cas, plus—the insanity that was his sexiness—to find an escape hatch.  His own 'emergency exit' to save himself.   _Ah-hah!_  
  
Dean ended up discovering salvation in a remote control on the table.  He stammered through the words, “How about we watch something 'til we get ready for our lovely dinner tonight?”

He couldn’t look at Cas or else he’d break.  He knew it.  As he backed up in his rattled state, to what he _assumed_ was the free part of the bed—

Ended up being Cas’ lap.

Dean just fucking straight-up flopped into Cas’ lap!

At least this time, as the alpha froze, that deep breath of 'oh shit’ told Dean he wasn’t the only one affected by his screw-up.    
  
The lungful of Cas' scent was fucked.  Fifty shades of fucked.  When his breathing hitched and Cas leaned closer, his nose brushed along the column of Dean’s throat with an odd, out-of-place curiosity.  
  
The alpha's bursting moan, that unabashed gasp of thrill, only meant one thing—

Dean had broken through his blockers.

Before he had time to sprint away in sheer panic, to take back the awkward blunder because this just  _wasn't fair_ , Cas already read his mind.  The alpha’s arms darted out to wrap around Dean’s waist.  He was fixed firmly in Cas’ lap as he continued to scent him, and maybe…this was for the best…

Not the whole, totally-making-an-ass out of himself thing, but the blocker thing.  Dean wished he could've taken it back, wished he'd never put them on, from the moment Cas kissed him in the bathroom.  But the damage had already been done.    
  
Lucky for Dean, this jerk drove him bat-shit crazy enough to render them useless that quick.

The graze of Cas’ nose, the heat of his body, and the fact that the alpha was now—holy hell—scent marking him?  Dean whimpered and naturally, unconsciously, elongated his neck in a show of submission—for the second time in his life.  For _this_ alpha.  
  
For _his alpha_.

This trip, if it made anything clear, was that Cas was undeniably his alpha.  Dean trying to escape it, whether it was his ‘emergency blockers,’ boozing it up with Sam to the point of forgetting an undeniably fantastic night, _anything_ to save face: it didn't matter.  What was unfolding before them was more real than any excuse they could use to explain it later.

God, when Cas’ tongue flicked against the now-damp skin of his sweating throat, he couldn’t fight.  The fight in Dean had transformed into pure desire, into the lust and love that he’d felt for this man for so long.  Thankfully, he didn’t have to make the choice to run or stay, Cas’ arms were restraining him.  The alpha clutched at his thighs and kept Dean bound within the circle of his strong grip—he wasn't going anywhere—Cas kissing and sucking Dean's neck, desperate for as much of his scent as he could get.

That he’d deprived the alpha of.  By total accident.

Dean felt guilt as hell, he was getting dizzy from all the new kinds of reckless and frantic notes from Cas, he couldn't imagine being denied this experience!  
  
Even when they finally seemed to be on the same page, when things were streamlining in a pretty obvious direction, every new element _still_ managed to stun Dean—  
  
—Like the very real, physical experience of Cas’ erection springing up, thick and grinding between his ass cheeks.

“Holy fuck!” Dean gasped, trying not to double over, because he could feel his body's respond in a wet, filthy way.  An omega's reaction to their alpha: slick gushing from his hole, preparing, and they hadn’t talked about this—

They never talked about sex, why would they?  Even though they always pushed the envelope about what was normal (or the new normal) for an alpha and omega friendship, nudity and cuddling—it wasn’t sex.  

Fuck, they couldn’t slow this down, not now: there was desire, want, hunger fueling both of them.  They could both scent it was long past physical, Cas could probably feel it soon, too.  It was only a (really-really-short) matter of time before his slick ruined _both_ their jeans!  
  
Their connection, for as long as they'd known each other was undeniable—and it ran deep: maybe so deep neither had the guts to peer down the rabbit hole to see how far it went.  Except, what was happening now?

Well. _Right now_ , Dean was very enthusiastically rolling his hips against Cas’ cock, trying to catch his breath while the alpha tore at his shirt.   _That_ was the latest—

With one of Cas’ arms encircled around Dean’s waist, his other hand dove down the omega's pants.  Cas stroked his cock long enough to make Dean shout out, before moving back further.  Dean already friggin knew what Cas was doing, he knew it from the second he (finally!) went below the belt.  
  
It was instinctual, alpha-driven, and all to confirm Dean was a dripping, slick mess.  Nah, Cas wasn't one for gloating, but he was one for proof—and Dean knew, while his body trembled, this was the alpha enjoying that proof.  
  
Cas’ fingers glided between the globes of his ass, but he never pushed inside, even when Dean continually angled his hips, wanting—no, _demanding—_ him to slide in—

“Thank God,” Cas’ voice quivered as he kissed down Dean’s neck.  “I was worried, scared that…you didn’t want me.  The way that I wanted you.  That the blockers were your way of letting me down easy.”

“What?!”  Dean hadn’t meant for the booming volume, but he had to whip around, stare Cas down in the face to be positive he wasn’t bullshitting.  “ _That’s_ why you got all trigger-shy on me?  Because you thought the blockers—?“  His first huff was disbelief, but after...he was kind of pissed off at himself.  “You’re nuts, Cas!  I…didn’t want you to know how stupid in love I was with you.   _I_ was the one who thought _I’d_ be rejected—”

The alpha’s blue eyes, slivers of rings in the heaviness of his darkened lustful gaze widened in shock.  “I never knew.  Dean, I…need to do something, if you‘ll allow it—”

“Fuck yeah, do anything,” Dean begged, he didn’t care what Cas wanted, he could have it.  He’d give him the moon, if he could.

Cas sprung up from the edge of the bed, spinning Dean around in his arms, and he whispered, “I want to do this for _us_ , no other eyes.  It’s all I can think about,” and he kissed him.

Like, really, truly kissed him.

With the kind of passion and yearning that had been building up for years upon years.  
  
Sure, they’d attempted to work out a little of the tension spilling out with their stolen kisses, but this was their breaking point.  Cas was right—this was for them.  And, holy mother of God, Dean felt it, the love pouring from the alpha, it washed over him from the inside out.

As their tongues brushed, they swallowed down each other’s moans and elicited others with wandering hands.  Dean knew, without a doubt, this wasn’t simple sexual tension breaking.  This was real.  This was what he’d been hoping for.  What others—what family—wanted him to have, for so fucking long.

Their lips never parted, but Cas managed to hike him up—Dean's legs wrapped around the alpha’s waist—as Cas sent them tumbling down to the bed, together.  Shit, Dean was at odds with himself!  The kiss was mind-blowing, his fingers were woven through Cas’ hair, but at the same time—  
  
He wanted to rip the clothes from Cas' body and rock his goddamn world…

Dean collided with the mattress, his alpha on top of him and they both scrambled to reach the top.

This being the first time their lips were free, drinking in the sight of the other, Dean said, “Do you have any idea?  How long I’ve loved you?  How difficult this has been for me?”

“Yeah,  I do.  I’ve got a good feeling everything you’ve felt?  Is what I have.  Is what I’m feeling.  Dean,” Cas cupped his cheeks, the intensity of his gaze daunting.  “This is your choice: your decision.  Will you let me make love to you?”

“Heh,” he chuckled and shook his head, “Cas.  Before, when I said I'll let you do anything?  Now I've beggin' you to _do everything_.”  Dean reached out, finally having room to rip Cas’ shirt off, continuing with, “Make love to me, knot me.  Court me for real, to mate me.  I want _all_ of these things with you, I have since I can remember—”

It appeared the confession had stolen the alpha’s breath, taken away his coherent thoughts with it.  He was wide-eyed and…his scent was electric.  Cas was overwrought was joy, like Dean’s confession had given voice to his desires and brought them into existence.  While he couldn’t speak, not yet, he certainly could move.

And Cas move swiftly, peeling away every annoying scrap of fabric that was keeping them apart.

His hands brushed against Dean’s skin, newly infatuated and obsessed—Cas was hungry to stroke and to worship his angles and curves.  His mouth descended against Dean's collarbone, nipping and sucking, Cas’ fingertips rolling the omega’s nipples into hardness.

“Cas, oh my God—!” Dean groaned while his pelvis flew off the bed, searching for friction, searching for the alpha.  “Touch me, wanna feel you inside me…”

Very quickly, Dean remembered and said aloud, “If this i-isn’t too much—”

“It’s _everything_ —everything you said you wanted: I want—” Castiel cleared his throat, pure affection mixing with the lust in his eyes, “ _You’re_ everything, my omega.”

Dean’s heart was  _done_ , it had fluttered off, after hitching a ride on cloud nine.  This stolen moment, right here, made the rest of the world fall away and Dean knew in his bones: Cas' love for him was equally all-consuming.

Soon, Cas was following his instructions, descending down on him, Dean spreading his leg as fast as they’d move.  He would’ve spun around and made it even easier, given Cas access to his hole, but there was no way the alpha would give him space to turn.  Instead, Dean arched his hips, wantonly swaying, begging for his cock—or, hell, Dean would even take his fingers.

Being with Cas would make him complete, whole.  He knew it and he craved it.

“Alpha, inside me!” Dean pleaded, debating whether to hold on tight to the bed sheets, or take his chances by offering Cas a guiding hand.  “I’m fucking gushing slick.  It’s all for you.”  He could only hope his words would help motivate—

The stunned state of awe only lasted as long as Cas needed to bask in the sight.  Cas settled between Dean’s legs and (thank God!) proceeded to use his strength, folding Dean in half.  His fingers—the same ones that investigated the first round of temptation—followed the trail of slick that was leaking down Dean's cock, coating his thighs—

—And beginning to trickle downward, creating a new path from Dean's crunched position.  Dammit, Dean was blushing, it was _ridiculous_ how freakin' wet he was!  The longer he was here, without Cas moving, the sooner his slick was going to keep running, dripping beyond his ass and down his back!

“You’re absolutely stunning—”  The feral growl in Cas’ throat tore a gasp from Dean.

This unruly side of Cas...it was enticing and dangerous, only escalating as he began to ravenously lap up Dean's slick.  It was like the alpha was starved for it—but he still maintained  _just_ enough control to tease Dean!

The omega wanted to thrash out of his hold.  To shove the goddamn alpha down and ride his cock until his knot burst inside him.  Except, he knew all too well: Cas was much stronger than him.  While Dean may be able to pull one over on Cas—that’s all it would be.  A sneaky, well-planned move.  And he’d only get _one_ shot.

But Cas’ tongue…it was close…so friggin close...

“You’re killing me!” Dean whined, swiveling his hips and tripping over his tongue, “If it’s not your cock?  F-fine, whatever!  Just make a move, fuck me with your tongue!”

The new, wild wave of Cas' bursting scent shot a visceral jolt through Dean, continuing to prick and pulse outward across his flesh.  It was proof: the alpha was all ears, even when Dean thought he'd been shut out.  The omega would take advantage of that...

“Eat me out, Cas.  Get me ready for your juicy knot.  I need it more than air,” he keened, and right as Dean was finishing his sentence—

Cas made him eat his words, plunging his tongue inside.

Dean choked on his exhale, struggling to take in air, and his alpha withdrew to kitten-lick his hole.  Apparently, _that_ was a playful deception—it sure as hell wasn't a reprieve for Dean—when his guard was down, Cas gleefully filled him up again.  
  
_Jesusfuck_ , he was strung-out on Cas, but Dean had always been: it was the way _his body_ was responding that had the omega reeling.  Dean’s hole, previously untouched (besides his own fingers and even then, it'd been a while), was outright begging for Cas, anyway he could get him.

Maybe it was in his head, but he swore it felt like his normally-tight rim was relaxing.  Easing as a response to Cas' intent.  His omega body greedy for Cas’ every caress, every move, demanding they were one...and maybe even speeding things along.    
  
Dean made the choice to give himself over to this alpha—his, uh,  _lower half_  was one step ahead: long since reaching vigorous agreement.  It only took a few deep plunges of Cas’ tongue and he could lick Dean from the inside out.  Too incredulous to speak, barely brave enough to gawk, Dean reveled in the heat and twisting of Cas' mouth, it felt as deep as his own touch ever had.  He was reaching his limit, the omega was going crazy with need.

His world was spinning out, trapped in the tunnel-vision sensations of Cas eating him out.  Dean knew he could cum from this tongue-fucking, there was no question—

That’s why he punched out the guttural, “Cas, _Cas_ , baby— _please_!  Please, I—”

Dean tried to tell him, dammit, did he try.  Just when he was ready to call it a spectacular failure, he got lucky: they were linked.

Cas set him down and soothed him into the bed, crawling back up his body, nipping at Dean's hyper-sensitive and fiery skin.  Just for a second, Dean mused about wearing a mark like the one he’d accidentally (or not-so-accidentally, he hated they'd blacked out) left on Cas last night.  He secretly prayed he would.

By the time Cas reached Dean’s mouth, the omega could taste his own slick on the alpha’s lips.  It shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was, but everything about Cas ticked all of his turn-on boxes.  Especially, the next words out of his mouth.

“How do you want it?”  Husky and ready to snap, _that’s_ how Dean wanted it.  But that wasn’t the right answer.

“I need to watch you fuck me.  Right here, right now.  Just knowing it’s you, Cas?”  Dean shivered into the words, making a show of arching his hips and opening his legs wide for the alpha, “God, knowing your cock is— _will be—_ inside me?  That’s enough to make me cum.”

“Breathe for me, Dean,” Cas ordered, while adjusting his hips and shifting his weight.  “How badly I want you...can't be described—but what's even more important?  Is to make you feel amazing.  Is to cum with you.  Think you can hold off, wait for me to get you there?  I swear, it’ll be worth it…”

The words seemed far away—Cas’ cock head was a slow-moving, acute pressure against his hole.  So damn slow, that Dean held his breath while he took the alpha’s size as gracefully as possible.  Except, Cas’ eyes never left him, hyper-aware and watching him tremble on the spot, making sure it wasn't too much—  

Finally, Cas finished sinking in with a sharp plunge, skin now slapped together, and Dean’s panting turned ragged.    
  
Dean’s constant was watching Cas: he acted as Dean's grounding.  He could see his alpha and devour the image of bliss, desire and two kinds of gratification.  One he was actively seeking, the other he’d received, by getting Dean in the first place.

“I’m gonna... _gonna try_  and hold back, Cas, b-but I ain't promising anything,” Dean fought to keep his voice even, the alpha moving, the fiction and pumping hips distracting and— _Dear God—_ the omega’s body was clamoring for him.  
  
The slick between his legs leaked and spurted out beyond his control, Cas wet, and growing wetter, where they were joined.  It sounded friggin obscene!  Dean was embarrassed for a half-second, until the alpha inhaled the scent.  Wow, seeing the way it captivated and wound Cas up melted all Dean's inhibitions and made him think...maybe being an omega wasn't _horrible_.  Not with Cas.  
  
That's where Dean's absent thought, “Never thought it’d feel like this…” arose.

“Like what?” Cas was taken by curiosity and he grabbed the base of Dean’s skull, giving into a hot, open-mouthed kiss.

It was obvious that Cas knew exactly how close Dean was, he didn’t take his words lightly and worked smart.  Although, he still took the time to make every touch, every roll or driven thrust acted in Dean’s pleasure.  
  
It didn't matter if the omega _was_  teetering on the edge: Cas refused to ignore his thirst.  The alpha poured out his heart through his body to delight Dean's senses—to enchant him.

A debauched Dean was equal parts adored and ravished when he decided 'sensory overload' had a new, positive and officially lewd definition.  Every last cell in him was singing, and in the back of his mind...Dean realized he had no idea what to expect when it came to Cas’ knot.  But…he wasn't scared.  

Never having been with an alpha he wondered—would he feel it?  How long would they have to decide if he could handle it—take it?  How long would they be linked together?  Oh, but when that bump began moving along Cas’ shaft—the omega knew he was in for it—

“Holy fuck—” Dean gasped awe-struck, as Cas leaned forward and sucked a mark on his neck.  This time, it happened _exactly_ as he wanted.  Dean bared his throat because he decided, moaning happily and writhing, because: _fuck yes._

The reaction seemed to work as the motivation Cas needed, wondering aloud again, “You still haven’t answered me, omega,” and Dean was still overwrought by tremors.  "What surprised you?"

He fought to find a way to... _eloquently_ put the hot-blooded pleasure into words.

“M-my body wants this just as much as I do.  It’s like all of me's ready to take you in, I’m long overdue in needing your touch, Cas.  Then the way you’re taking fuckin’ care of me?  Which should be the last thing you’re thinking of when yer knot‘s about ready to blow?”  Dean laughed aloud, because of the surprised expression on the alpha’s face, “J-just…I never thought it’d feel like this.”

A long, drawn out moan was ripped from Dean’s lungs, he dropped his head to the side, refusing to scream in Cas’ ear.  Even though it was the alpha making Dean shout himself hoarse from how mindbogglingly _awesome_ this—  
  
No, _shit_ , Dean had been tip-toeing the ledge for so long, there was no way he could keep this up!

“This discovery’s good, right, Dean?” Cas wondered, his hips punctuated, slamming against Dean’s sweet spot.

The omega’s teeth ground together so hard he was worried he'd crack a tooth.  Bucking up against the alpha (rather, attempting) was the only way he could reciprocate, Cas was completely in control.  But Dean knew one thing…

“Y-you’re provoking me.  You wanna make me talk so you can hear how fucking wrecked my v-voice is,” Dean announced, capturing Cas’ face with his hands, cupping his cheeks with targeted palms.  “Does this get you off?  L-like all the damn teasing has this entire trip?  Where I've been constantly, _constantly_ one foot in, one o-out.  You love p-pushing—” he hauled his alpha in and kissed him rough.

Cas’ eyes lingered closed, refusing to take for granted even one genuine kiss that transpired between the two of them.  He nodded, admitting Dean was correct.

Yet, Cas had more to say, to explain—  
  
Except, there was a more immediate case: time was of the essence, it took precedence.

“You meant it, right?  It wasn’t dirty talk or teasing.”  The way Cas was moving, they were nearing his end-game, and Dean was having a helluva time thinking straight.  With his brains scrambled, he was damn lucky the alpha clarified, “You want my knot, right?  You’ll— _fuck_ , you feel _unbelievable—_ let me knot you?”

Although there were a few niggling what-ifs, all while Dean could already feel the pressure stretching his rim, he had two things going for him: trust and love.  Two things Dean believed they had, and Cas would never put at risk.

“Yes, I want all of you, Cas,” he demanded, and covered his nerves with a cocky wink and, “Keep on that ‘good discovery,’ yeah?”

“Dean, I promise you, it won’t hurt, all right?”

The assurance caught him off guard.  Dean had no idea he was that transparent!  He was gunning for an affronted expression, but Cas clucked his tongue and pounded into his ass, harder, and deeper than ever.  More than enough to wipe any bravado off Dean's face and replace it with rapture and ecstasy.

“JesusfuckingChrist—!” he moaned out, extending into something long and delicious—Cas licking a strip along Dean’s submissive, bared neck while the omega covered them in cum.

Cas tapered his rhythm down to shallow rocks, buried inside the omega.  His release filling Dean's insides ignited an even heavier instinctual link, a bond, it was what kept him moving.

Most importantly, was Cas gauging Dean's reaction.  While he wanted terribly to push him with another load, this was the first time Dean had taken a knot, it may not be possible.

Dammit, Cas just wanted some kind of sign of life: so he kissed the omega's lips, using a tender coaxing to see if Dean would open his eyes.  He continued his approach, humming in a low rumble, “Fuck, you’re stunning, Dean.  How does it feel—it’s not too much?”

One eye peeked opened and there was a tugging grin on the corner of his lips.  Dean reached up, his hands running through Cas’ hair—what he assumed to fix the disarray—as he quietly explained, “It was kind of, well, really overwhelming at first, you‘re packin’ heat, dude.  But I got used to it, fast, and as soon as that happened?”  He shook his head in awe, an airy quality to his voice and adoration in his scent when he wondered, “Do you feel it?”

Wondering if it would be cruel to tease and mess around with such a topic, Cas went with the truth instead.  One he vehemently agreed with.  
  
“I feel exceedingly strong about one thing.  And I hope it’s the same as yours.”  He kissed Dean’s forehead in support, urging, “Tell me about it, Dean.  Don't hold back.”

A hard swallow.  Nervous shifting.  A soothing, deep inhale.  A false start.

Then, finally Dean found the confidence.  “Mating, Cas.  For real.  I’ve always felt like we were built for each other.  Before—it was soul mates through our crazy version of best friends.  Now that we’ve been together?  It’s so obvious our connection is deeper, more intense and different than something between friends.  This whole time...me runnin' around as a single omega, being harassed and looked down on because I _won't_ settle...I think I’ve been waiting for you.  If you’ll have me.”

God, _yes_ , that was exactly what Cas was stewing with, slowly boiling in: like the ignorant frog beginning to bubble inside the heating water pot.  Dean had extended to him a lifeline, it changed his world, and he instantly agreed, “We have always been soul mates; that’s undeniable,” ducking forward, pressing their foreheads together.  “Wishing for more...I'd never dreamed of being so happy.  I’d give you everything, Dean, I meant it.  Every damn thing an alpha could give to their omega.  But I want you to think about this.”

“Think about this?” Dean repeated with a furrowed brow, pushing Cas away in confusion, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Cas laughed and attempted to keep the situation light.  Not only did he refuse to fuck this up…he didn’t want to offend Dean.  Or…provoke him—that could turn out worse.  “Twenty-four hours.  By that time, we’ll be back in the Impala alone, on an easy road trip again.  We'll be heading home and we’ll confirm. … _Or_ deny, it’s just…” Cas blew through his lips.  
  
The fierce expression on the omega’s face was _not_ ideal.

Especially, because they were locked together and facing one another.  Now, Cas had to explain himself and he would: he owed it to Dean.  All because of a random (yet legitimate) thought at the forefront of his brain.    
  
While reasonable, Cas' logic was... _abrasive,_  and he could re-word it a million times, there was no correct delivery…

“You’ve never been with an alpha.”  Cas laid it out—pointblank.  And launched with Olympian-esque speed to plea his case, before Dean exploded.  “You are undeniably special, I could list all the reasons, but it would take me years.  Being together is extraordinary.  For me, it's transcended all experiences I've had any other omegas—yes—everything I knew _has_  changed.  Our connection changed: from camaraderie to destiny, and… _yes_.  I want to mate.”

Each time Dean had the chance to launch into a possible ( _probable_ ) tirade, Cas powered though.  He  _knew_ if Dean had all the information it wouldn't seem as harsh—he'd understand Cas' reason, or at least get it: because _he knew Cas_ —he couldn't stop now—  
  
"Dean, I don't doubt what's in your heart.  You'd never tease about us joining our lives, but...I also believe in new relationships, in endorphins and sex-fueled impulsiveness."  The alpha would kill to scent himself.  This wasn't about 'having a talk' with Dean, _God no_ , Cas was making damn sure they were as bomb-proof as he believed they _were_.  “This was your first time being knotted.  Scenting dominance during sex.  I need you to think back on this later, when I’m not with you—was it the _experience_ you enjoyed?  Or me?  Think about us.  Do you truly want to be with me, forever?  Think about others you’ve been with, how do they compare?  I don’t want to mislead you, even if it’s something that I wish with all my heart.”

All these questions pouring out...Cas began with what he needed to say, but found he _couldn't stop_.  Where had this insecurity crawled it's way up from?  
  
It was pretty damn obvious: the alpha needed to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was real.  He believed that Dean loved him and it was close (if not) unconditional.  But they (yes, _they_ ) needed to be sure it _wasn’t_  some miraculous, rare connection of two _souls._   They'd need to discover whether it was two _mates_.  
  
Of course, sex could complicate things.  Then again, there were countless factors that could've fucked their chances up completely.  Looking at the big picture, things had transpired so astonishingly, even if Cas got his heart broken he wouldn't regret a second of this trip.  The alpha wondered...once Dean’s head was clear to think about them—would he?  Or would he be dramatic, pout, and ignore Cas' instructions for the sake of acting out?  
  
Even then, if Dean sat with the new list and soul-searched: would he beg 'forever' without the orgasm?

Oh, Cas _prayed._   There was nothing he wanted more than Dean.

“You’re such a fuckin’ weirdo.”  Yes, Dean was sulking.  It was all he could do, with the love of his life still inside his ass, thank you.  “So after this, are we gonna shower before the big family dinner, or…?”

“You’ll make a mess, of course we’ll shower,” Cas informed with a smirk.  “Our next tumble into bed  _will_ be messier.  Count on it.  I’m not stopping until I stretch you full of cum, omega.  I was polite for your first time.”

The dangerous flash in Dean’s eyes and his words spiked both their adrenaline.  “That better be a promise,”

“Heh, the only question is how much you can take...”  Cas was thankful—he could be himself.  He could be mischievous and brazen.  “How pliable and hungry you are.”

“I’m gonna tell you, right now, zero bullshit,” Dean cuffed a finger under Cas’ chin, demanding his attention.  “There’s nothing else, no alpha-kink or dominance thing behind this.  It’s _you_.  My choice would be the same even if we never had sex again.  Yeah, that would suck, but if it'd prove a point—I'd do it.  Goddammit, I need _you_ , I need _Castiel Novak_ , as my mate.”

The rough edges surrounding the topic softened—Dean always managed to find a way—and the alpha soothed open his clenched hand, lacing their fingers together.  “Hey, I want this, too.  Allow me the favor...give me those twenty-four hours to humor me.  Neither of us is going to disappear.  We still have a mission to enact, Sam’s celebration to enjoy, we'll stay together the entire time.  And just like that—we'll be on our ride home.  Nothing changes.”

“’Sides me being obnoxiously in love with you.”  Dean wiped a hand over his face and sighed.  
  
Although...now, saying it aloud after all these countless _years_ of biting his tongue, stewing in silence—?

Speaking up felt like the right thing to do.  When he caught the alpha smiling as big as he was, Dean knew saying the 'L' word wasn't something to be afraid of anymore.

Cas approved, “Yeah, I guess getting to say I’m in love with you, too, may change things a little.”

“A little?”  Dean raised an eyebrow in fake jest, “How about—”

Dodging more questions, Cas warned, “—Okay, Dean.  Remember when I spoke of the mess, we’ll shower off?”

“Okay— _dear God!_ ”

Cas now knew a grand way to shut his omega up to escape a conversation, watching as Dean fled towards the bathroom.  Perhaps they should invest in condoms while they were here?  Or Dean may get used to it, Cas knew the omega was stubborn, he'd rather 'tough' anything out as he navigated through it.  The alpha planned on being there for every step as Dean (hopefully) chose him, and they lived as an alpha and omega pair.

Today would be great practice, Castiel mused, as he went to join Dean in the shower.

Ironically, this was one of the occasions they'd planned ahead for: it ended up in their first list, having been discussed as something that may come up while they were on the trip.    
  
Even though _it was_ in the context of  _pretending_ because family was nearby—and nothing could be further from the truth.  Oh well.    
  
One could argue the pair had simply _embraced_ their roles!  Technically—no rules were broken, they weren’t doing anything ‘wrong’ as they washed up together.  
  
They were brainstorming about all the ‘wrong things’ they could get into— _later_.


	6. Chapter Five

“Cas!  Where’s my tie?!”  Dean was savagely digging through his bag, chucking random items backwards, littering the floor.  The alpha calmly watched on, finishing the last button on his dress shirt, all while Dean never stopped cursing.  “Dammit!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Cas saw the tie _fly by_ within a wad of socks and boxers, and plucked it out of a pile.  He rolled his eyes fondly and didn’t say a word.  Instead, he walked over to his flustered omega and popped his collar, looping the fabric around his neck and handling it for him.

The tension vanished from Dean’s shoulders and he slumped over.  “Jesus.  What would I do without you?” he groaned and tried to steal a kiss.

Cas swatted him away with a chuckle.  “Well, without me you wouldn’t have a gaudy mark on your neck.”  When he brushed his thumb over the bruise, barely hidden beneath Dean’s collar, the omega’s face turned red.  “I like it.  Luckily, my…positioning was more careful than yours was last night.”  He soothed Dean’s shirt down and spoke his thoughts aloud, “I wonder if those memories from the club will ever come back to us.”

“Does it matter?”  Dean side-stepped him and took a quick glance in the mirror, making sure he fit the bill of what his parents deemed ‘acceptable.’

They had two shindigs to dress up for.  This evening's dinner and Sam’s actual graduation tomorrow.

For some reason, Dean felt like he had something to prove and he was all nerves facing his parents.  He felt like a damn child again!  
  
Surrounded in the joyful atmosphere of a more controlled setting would’ve given him so much more confidence if they’d just shown up to _Sam’s_!  He would’ve had overwhelming support from the rest of the family, they’d be in his corner.  The casual vibes, hanging out and mingling was easy, all of ‘em _already_ loved Cas!  
  
Dean was right back where he started, about to face down another built-up monster.  Manning up, marching into another worrisome scenario Dean dreaded.  Fear of the unknown, in a fancy-ass place where the omega _wouldn’t_ be able to relax, even if he _wanted to_.  These kind of joints weren’t his thing!

“Well, what matters most, is Sam knowing about us being together—even before we were _truly_ together—so we're no longer guilty of lying to him.”  Cas found it amusing.  “Remembering the events ourselves won’t change where we ended up.  We’re here now, aren’t we?”  He closed in on Dean from where he was standing behind him and addressing his reflection, “Are you ready?”

Sucking in a deep breath, the omega nodded.  “I think so,” he turned around to face his alpha, asking seriously, “Are you?”

The smile on Cas’ face was happy.  Warm.  “Yes.  I’m optimistic.  I don’t feel we’re even pretending anymore.  The lines aren’t blurred and I don’t need to be cautious of overstepping.  It’s much easier.”

“It’s ‘cause we’re _not_ pretending.  You know that, right?” Dean’s voice was hushed, his gaze flickering between Cas’ eyes and the ground.  “ _Christ_ , this twenty-four-hour-bullshit's got me thinkin' twice about—”

“You're right, but tonight is different—” the alpha suddenly needed Dean to understand, he filled his words with urgent intent.  “Let's be us, enjoy every moment.  But don't you dare second guess because of _me_ , I’m still giving _you_ time to think about us on your own.  If it’s too much, if you value our friendship more—I want you to have an out.   _That’s_ why I’m giving us time.”  
  
“Dean, I've already chosen.  I’m all in,” Cas promised, and _fuck_ , could he hear Dean’s heart beating out of his chest?  The alpha’s goal was to give him the strength and support he needed to face his family, yet now...he was confessing.  “Today, when I introduce myself as your future mate, I’m saying it wholeheartedly.  I’m saying it with faith we’ll work out, faith we’ll be together no matter the capacity, even if you choose friendship again.  Admittedly, being mates _is_ where I’m praying this will go, and I won’t be shy about my desire in front of your parents.  At the end of the day, all I want is _you_.”

“Well, shit, you got me there!”  Dean’s grin was wide and he chuckled, feeling both giddy and content within the alpha’s presence, his scent.  Like always, Cas knew all the right words to say, everything needed to make Dean comfortable and more than that: he felt loved.  “I’m gonna mean all of it, too, you know.  When I'm 'allowed' to say it again.  I’m gonna play along with your scheme, your time-frame, and whatever, to make _you_ feel better.”

Grabbing the keycard with one hand, Dean offered his other for Cas.  “Thank God the restaurant is in the hotel, right?”

“Precisely.  That also means a few drinks are in the forecast,” Cas suggested, the beginning wisps of a scent that spelled out trouble—the kind that Dean lived for.  “Family and drinks are a fitting combination.  Since we’re only drinking and walking, rather than driving, we can take advantage.  Of _many_ things as the evening progress.”    
  
As they made their way down the hallway, Dean swung their arms dramatically, working out the kinks, burning off stress.  Cas fed into it, encouraging the play and twirled him around in the elevator.  After Cas dipped Dean and pulled him back up—both laughing out loud—he commented, “It is quite a nice hotel.”

“The bed’s even better,” Dean quipped, recalling Cas’ previous innuendo and one-upping him.  “Just sayin…”

He shook his head, struggling to keep his language civil, when all he wanted to do was escalate—Cas stuck to...implications.  “We’ll have to make good use of it tonight then, won’t we?”

  
  
Dinner was a mirrored reflection of the morning at Sam’s.

All those already in Palo Alto were seated at their reserved table, while Sam texted away on his phone.  It was easy—they were chatting, the servers were attentive and quick on the draw to fill up their beverages.  Everyone had a couple drinks (some more than others), while they waited for John and Mary’s arrival to begin supper.  Dean kept staring at _the gap_ in the massive, round table—built for two.

Right smack-dab next to Cas.

It was deliberate.  His stupid little brother had set it up.  
  
Instead of sticking them next to Jo, so they could eat, drink and be merry—or Donna and Jody, so they could catch up and laugh—Sam _had_ the two chairs appointed to Mom and Dad Winchester: right fucking next to his alpha!    
  
It was a crapshoot.  Only time would tell whether it would be Mary or John who sat closest to Cas.  Even then, either parent was an easy lean-in away.

Unlike Dean, Cas showed no signs of oncoming panic attacks.  The omega’s flashed on and off, like a goddamn strobe light.  It was no fault of Cas’ or his, this was years in the making, years of anticipation, it all boiled down to this moment.  Of course, Dean was freaked out!

Still, with the alpha’s fingers intertwined with his, a cold beer, and a family who already loved Cas...Dean figured he had the best odds he could've.  Part of the job was already over, right?  
  
This was bigger than only his parents, even though their opinions were ungodly weighted.  Dean was, and always had been, so damn close with his _entire_ family.  There was enough of them to fill a bus, but the size irrelevant, it didn't make a single individual any less important or loved.  And Cas...had won them over, he'd stolen their hearts, just like he had Dean’s.

“They’re in the cab!” Sam announced, prompting a collective eruption of celebrating in an array of noises.

Bobby's, “Thank God, I’m _starving_!” was mixed in with Donna’s excited, “Are you ready, Cas?!” and Jo’s, “I’ll cheers to that!  Where’s the booze?!” the blonde already a bit tipsy.  Dean could relate to all three of them, a helluva lot more than they knew.  
  
“Yes!  Shot, please!” Jody was the one who came through, justifying, “Who knows how much we’ll be able to drink during our actual dinner, right guys?”  
  
That ‘attentive’ wait staff?  They had super-hearing!  In a flash, they were working their way around the table, balancing and disturbing whiskey shots from their tray.  
  
Oh, fuck yeah, Dean was into it!  No one even bothered with the toast, there was a few calling out, “Salut!” and “Bottoms up!” at random, which absolutely described them in a nutshell.

“Countdown is on.”  Sam was all smug with that dumbass, little-bitch grin.

Dean narrowed his eyes and snipped, “You know, if you weren’t the special graduation boy, I’d have some  _real special_ shit to say to you.”

“Dean,” Cas warned, and squeezed his hand.  “Everything is great.  If I’m not worried, you shouldn’t be.”

“Are you?” he asked, boldly and outright.  No more of this beating around the bush, crap.  ...Dean could probably attribute his outburst to the liquor, but he couldn't stop his friggin word vomit!  “Now that we're right here, _right now_ , what are you thinking?”

The entire table (up until now they'd been five different conversations of loud organized chaos) fell silent and honed in on the beat Castiel missed.  All eagerly awaiting his answer.  
  
The alpha’s eyes scanned around the family, who was watching expectantly with varying degrees of curiosity that ranged from intrigue to… _dying for_ information.  With a hard swallow, Cas groaned and let his head lull backwards before facing the group.

“Everyone here is making this out to be a much, much bigger issue than I believe it to be,” Cas said and turned to Dean.  “I understand that Dean’s felt pressure as an omega for a while, and I, personally, feel horrible I haven’t been able to meet his family until now.  But my intentions are pure, my love _is real,_ and I don’t understand what there’s to worry about.  We’re together because we want to be together; we‘ll mate when we want to mate.  There's no rush—Dean’s the center of my world, I’m lucky he’s chosen to stay by my side.  A mark doesn’t prove what we already know: that for us, and especially me, there will never, _ever_ be anyone for me but Dean.”

“Wow.”  A feminine sounded from over Cas’ shoulder; one that he didn’t recognize, but Dean knew all too well—they both froze up.  “That was quite lovely.  Castiel, right?”

The alpha shot to his feet in a flash, Dean lagging a half second behind.  
  
Yes, John and Mary _had_ arrived.    
  
What’s more, was that not a _single one_ of these motherfucking _traitors_ had given the alpha or omega a heads-up during Cas’ heart-felt (and sweet, _God_ Dean almost _melted_ from his words) speech!  They _all_ had to see them approach—Mary and John made their debut by strutting up directly behind him and Cas!  
  
A friggin head nod, a mouthed word, _any warning_ , would’ve been fantastic, but nope—they’d _all_ decided to be assholes—

“Yes, ma’am.”  Cas nodded and reached out to greet her with a handshake.  “Castiel Novak.  It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Winchester.”

When he tried to nonchalantly sniff the air as she closed in…he didn’t have to try very hard.  Instead of taking his extended hand, she laughed and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.  Actions spoke louder than scent in this case, a rarity, when she insisted, “Call me Mary, Cas.”

They parted and Cas felt he and Dean managed a small victory—but...he also noted a very strong scent in a very different direction— _Dean’s_ complete shock at the way the scene was unfolding.

Mary went on to introduce, “This is John,” who, thankfully, didn’t hug him (Dean would’ve keeled over and died) and she playfully said, “You’re right, you know.  You _should_ feel horrible it took you this long to meet us.  Five years?  I honestly thought Dean was making you up to placate us!”

They all laughed and sat down at the table, Dean’s barked chuckle was loud, forced and awkward, still cackling long after everyone else had stopped.    
  
Yet, Cas’ remained poised: he smacked the omega under the table and smoothly responded, “I can assure you, I’m very real.  It feels like more than five years, doesn’t it?”  He glanced warmly at Dean, because this was good—this was _excellent_.  “After all, we were friends first.”

John watched both of them carefully and crossed his arms on the table.  “Mary wasn’t kidding.  We were ready for an empty chair.  And an excuse.  Dean telling us that you got the flu, had to stay home.  Couldn’t get out of work.  I _am_ surprised.”

“Pleasantly?” Jody continually shined where others refused to tread—always brave enough to throw digs at John Winchester.  “C’mon, you gotta admit, you’re impressed with your boy’s taste, right?”

He appeared taken aback, and Dean didn’t blame his Dad at all.  In fact, he stared Jody down and silently pronounced, _’Really_?’ with wide eyes and a scrunched brow.  It was like Dean and Cas, by themselves were fine.  But then, the _moment_ anyone else jumped into the mix, there were too many pounds in the boat and they began sinking!

“So far so good,” John admitted slowly, and Dean internally _flipped out—_ he couldn’t expect anything better than that from his father!  “How about we order up some grub?  God knows I’m sick and tired of being trapped in-transit.  Between layovers, jacked-up departures times, and nothing but garbage airport food—I'm ready for a real meal.”

Another excited chorus of, “Oh, God, _yes_!” “I am starving!” and “Ready to order whenever you are!” was muddled, wild noise around the table, yet Dean didn’t care about food in that moment.  
  
That was saying a lot—normally, Dean and food were an inseparable combo.

Nope, something _way_ more important was happening.  His parents looked like they were accepting his (real-life) future mate.  It was Cas and Mary chatting animatedly about the delays and the issues with the plane while John, blissfully and happily unaware, read through the menu.  Any other time, he'd be watching a newcomer like a hawk, as a potential threat, but not Cas.  
  
 It was the warm support in the form of Cas’ hand on his thigh under the table.  Low enough so he didn’t spring any accidental boners, but high enough that it was intimate—so much more than ’just friends.’

Wow.

It was _real—_ they’d come out to their entire family, sealing the deal.  They'd jumped a hurdle that normally took couples unending debates, progression through their relationship and courting, plus _courage,_ to work up to.  Dean and Cas hadn’t even defined what they were to one another until a handful of hours ago!

This was the equivalent of ripping the Band-Aid off, wasn’t it?

Well, Dean’s family couldn’t say they wasted any time at all making the announcement.  That they hid anything from them.  From the looks of it, plus, whatever happened last night—Sam was the first person to know!  It figured, with the stupid dance they'd been doing around each other for all these years...it _would've_ been an outside source to recognized it first, to call them out.  Give the graduate a prize!

As dinner continued, Dean soon realized that he wasn’t drunk off the liquor, no—he’d stopped drinking a long time ago.  He was thrumming with delight, this buzz of joy he never thought he’d get the chance to have for himself.

Love—he had love.   _And,_  somehow, he was gifted with the awesomeness of that love integrating seamlessly into his family.

If Dean were being honest?

Before this charade-turned-reality, when the omega drew up a picture-perfect mate: there was always a condition that would make it or break it—they _needed_ to love his family.    
  
Family was so important to Dean—both blood and those family members that extended far beyond blood.  Each person gathered around this table was someone he’d take a bullet for.  All of them, they _would_ need to approve of Dean’s conceptual ‘mate,’ or it wouldn’t work.  No exceptions.

Somehow, all these critical and pivotal requirements found a match in Cas.    
  
Dean couldn’t have put pen to paper, creating a more flawless alpha; but all these years, there had always been one—right in front of him.  Friggin parading himself around, _just_ outside of Dean’s grasp—

Now he’d caught the alpha!  He sure as hell wasn’t letting him go.

In that moment, Dean ducked forward and planted a surprise-kiss on his future mate’s lips, even though he’d totally interrupted whatever Cas was saying.  Dean wanted to, because he realized he _could,_ that was totally nuts to him! When he pulled away, he watched Cas’ surprise fade into the gladdest sigh, before he regained composure and easily picked up where he left off.    
  
Yes—it was the most beautiful reaction, and it was Dean’s (he had the ability and permission to take control, he finally figured it out!), from here on out.

He _could_  use these small things to their benefit and unlock their potential, cross innocent boundaries he’d only dreamed about in the past.  All without worry.  Dean could do that and so much more, for what he hoped to be the rest of their lives.  Hot damn!

“We did it!  We’re official!” Dean sung out into the hotel room, grabbing Cas’ once they were inside and spinning them around in a circle.  “They didn’t shoot you, maim you, or try to hide your body!  And I’m _crazy_ surprised there weren’t inappropriate questions!”

Cas was glowing, smiling from ear to ear, when Dean’s centrifugal force spun him backwards and onto the bed.  Wasting no time with both in great spirits, Dean stalked Cas down, playfully crawling the length of the mattress like a cat.

“Yes, your parents _were_ quite conservative in their line of questioning.  Given what I know about them, I was ready for an inquisition.”  He gave the omega a once-over and clucked his tongue. “ _You_ , on the other hand…”

“Am feeling frisky,” Dean agreed.  He pounced, straddling Cas’ lap and pulling him to sit up, draping his arms around his alpha’s neck.  “Everyone loves you, you know.  Just like I knew they would.  You fit in perfect.  You make sense, and—”

With a raised eyebrow, Cas interjected, “But do _you_ love me, Dean?”

“What kind of stupid question is that?” he scoffed, grin only widening.  “I want you as my mate.  I want you, right friggin now, actually.  Of fuckin’ course, I love you.  I’ve loved you too damn long to have to deal with all’a yer red tape, cock-blocking me…”

The alpha was relieved, because Dean’s words were laughed out as he cupped his cheeks and wondered aloud, “So are we gonna take advantage of this awesome bed, or are we gonna _totally_ take advantage of this awesome bed?” wiggling his eyebrows.

“I already warned you,” Cas prefaced, before he wound Dean’s tie around his hand multiple revolutions.  “I plan on taking advantage of many things.”

He used his hold to yank it taunt and hard enough to gauge the omega’s reaction.  And, damn, did he get one.  
  


He sucked a breath in, deep enough to gather himself, but that was ripped away as soon as he took it!  Cas forcefully strung him along with his hand fastened tight—Dean was hauled out of his lap, as Cas promptly swung him down onto the bed and pinned him.

The omega’s landing was a muffled, “Omph!” but his scent lit up like fireworks.

Cas followed right on his heels, his nose hungrily brushing the exposed length of neck, before musing aloud, “We’re going to have to do better than this, aren’t we?”

“Hell yeah, what do you want, alpha?” Dean blurted out, and only after did he realize how desperate he sounded.  

It wasn’t like that was a problem before…if anything, it goaded Cas on.

“I want…” he easily popped the top two buttons of his shirt open, revealing a stunning expanse of Dean’s throat.  There was a single imperfection, one Cas himself had caused, making it all the more tantalizing.  “I wanna watch you, see you present,” he whispered, his voice coated in pure seduction, reducing Dean to an instantly hard, and equally dripping mess of his own.  “How does that sounds?”

Dammit, of course Cas asked as his mouth clamped down over the mark!  Dean keened and whimpered while his hips aimlessly thrust upward.  He needed _to feel_ Cas—his body was aching for touch, for release, for anything the alpha could give him—  
  
But maybe… _maybe_ if he could move fast enough, even when the alpha was tormenting him, he could wrap his own hand around his cock?  That would be enough to get by—Cas had gotten him so hard it _hurt_.

It didn’t look like the alpha was letting him do much of anything yet—too focused on sucking new life into the mark—Dean...couldn’t blame him.  He was frustrated as all hell, but he couldn’t blame him.  Dean could relate—his first glimpse of the drunken bruise he'd left on Cas nearly made him cum in his pants.  Back then, he'd needed to ignore the obsession churning through his body, swallow hard from the way he salivated each time he caught the blueish edge peeking above Cas' shirt, everything in him craving to darken his flesh, made the claim last forever—  
  
Dean would allow Cas to indulge, because...well, he was getting all kinds of mind-blowing sensations from his tongue and teeth.  Knowing that mark would be brighter, would bruise deeper riled him up, even while he was being thrown around like a rag doll because...you only fixated like this if the animal inside you demanded to claim—  
  
Tossed around, controlled and wanted?  Dean was about to lose his shit, going crazy from the ideas and manic lust. 

This grip Cas had, manipulating Dean around by his tie… _JesusChrist_ , it did things to him!  
  
Dean _needed_ to move them into action, for his own sanity, and he had a good idea how to get under his skin...

“God, any an' all of it, I’ll present for you—” Dean whined out, and swiftly added a fleck of impishness, “I mean…we _should_ try everything, right?  S-since we’re gonna be mated soon—we gotta start somewhere—plus...I _love_  gettin' creative…”

The scraping graze of teeth against Dean’s neck made him shout in surprise.  The sensation nearly enough to break skin thrilled him beyond words—his cries loud enough to be heard through the damn walls, it left him clutching at the alpha.  “Cas!”

That voice of his was _sin_.  “Trying things, right?”  That’s when he ground their hips together and moaned unabashedly, “Are you as wet as you are hard, omega?”

Goddammit, Cas was undeniably pure alpha tonight, making Dean’s quivering legs drop open on instinct.  “You tell me…"  Dean  _had_ to come clean and confess, “Cas, at the rate we're going?  There’s no way you’re gonna get me bent over.  I’m not gonna last that long if we're humpin' like teenagers.  I'm gonna start begging and yer gonna wanna knot me just like—”

He should have known his taunting would have been the thing to make Cas snap.  It had been his original plan, but then his honesty got the best of him and—wow—!

The alpha abandon his grip on the tie, and Dean’s challenge not only made Cas flip him over, but strapped Dean on a roller-coaster ride.  Damn, was the alpha efficient, ripping open Dean's belt buckle, popping passed buttons, tearing down his fly, and once he was unzipped—

Holy hell.

For the first time in Dean’s _life_ , he was face down, bare-ass up in the air.  And he loved it.

Something in him, perhaps something primitive—like a prey rabbit, or some crap—made him freeze up.  His previous, heavy breathing turned shallow, while Cas’ grabbed his ass cheeks and spread him open.  Dean could feel the slick pouring from his hole.  It was already smeared and soaked against his rear from the mess he’d made in his boxers.  Cas was this sex-god catalyst: not only did the alpha make his cock throb, a graze of the alpha's thumb made him gush—maybe to appear enticing or maybe because he was just that desperate.  The fact was—Dean wanted him _so_ goddamn _bad_ , his slick was already dripping down his thighs.

Hot puffing breath mimicked the ghost of Cas’ touch, what Dean longed for more than anything.  This hesitation...was Cas steeling his nerves, or something?  For _what_?  Dean couldn’t tell.  But whatever his alpha had in mind, he was sure as hell ready, if it wasn't obvious enough!  Jesus, if Cas didn’t move soon, he was gonna have to make good on his promise to beg—

Dean dared to take the chance, to glance backwards and meet his gaze.  He deliberately ordered the hoarse, “Alpha.  Take—”

But before he could finish, Cas _took—_  
  
—Not like last time.

The omega was left stunned and gaping—Cas plunged in without warning or regard, moaning in unabashed gratification they were finally one.  
  
Castiel lingered, he took his time to savor the first moments of Dean wrapped around his cock, being fully connected.  He reveled in that still-new, foreign feeling—Dean, on the other hand, was barely coherent…last time, the alpha had let him acclimate, centimeter by friggin centimeter: this had been an  _honest-to-God_ grand slam.  In fact, his head was so foggy, the only thing Dean wondered was when the hell Cas had time to unzip his pants—?!

When he felt the alpha exhale against his opening, the alluring temptation led Dean to believe Cas was gonna eat him out again.  He was waiting for his tongue.  Dean was preparing for another sweet and dirty round of foreplay.  Like _before_.  He was dead wrong.  
  
As Cas ground against him, experimenting with a rhythm, he breathlessly answered Dean’s question before he could ask.  “Seeing you like this?  Presenting for _me_ , willing to give this _to me_?  Shit, there’s no way I-I can hold back.”   
  
Groaning with pleasure, the alpha's hands snaking under Dean’s shirt as he began to rock.  Yeah, it was damn easy to see he couldn’t help himself, knowing Dean never gave an alpha the time of day, let alone handed one  _this_ kind of control over him.  When Cas allowed his alpha to surface he was goddamn shameless, and Dean...couldn't get enough, Cas was different.  
  
And Cas knew...everything, his scent was filled with all things alpha, this ticked of all his boxes as he was overwhelmed by his biology, nails biting at Dean’s skin—shouting the word _‘mine_.’

Dominance.  Power.  Endless desire.  And this tangy-yet-sweet obsession-like love.

Dammit, Dean wanted to fuck back against Cas, he wanted to take more of his dick, get in on the action and make the alpha moan from what _he_ could dish out in return.  Dean _couldn’t—_ each vigorous thrust _continuously_ knocked him over, making him claw for the bed sheets for some kind of leverage—while Cas drilled him into the mattress.  Like, _literally_.    
  
It was goddamn _amazing_ , and the omega inside Dean was thriving from being completely and totally bent to Cas’ will.

“Y-you’re lovin’ this—” Dean’s words were punched out.  “You keep on takin’ all of my firsts,” he began to laugh out, but it quickly became a long mewl when Cas’ forming knot teased his rim, the near-aggressive friction staggering, making his toes curl.

“Mm, somehow I don’t think you’re upset…”  His chuckle was a shade darker than mischievous, setting off (sexy) warning bells.  “I _am_ honored,” Cas pledged, right before a new ferocity set in, growling, “To be your first _and_ lasts, you’re all mine…”

Dear Lord, the conviction and insanity was like a shaken snow globe, and it changed the game.    
  
Dean abandon the sheets and scrambled to grip the pillow, while Cas grabbed his hips to hold him firmly in place.  That’s when he knew he was in trouble—a fucking wondrous kind of trouble—  
  
Mere minutes before were already a forgotten memory as the alpha plowed into Dean harder and faster than, well… _anything_ Dean had ever experienced.  Cas was balancing the omega’s weight, saving him from toppling over, and giving himself the best height to fuck into him.  
  
When his knot was beginning to swell, the bump stimulated and rubbed _right_ over Dean’s sweet spot.  It couldn’t get any better than this, even though he felt like a goddamn blow-up doll, and—

 _That’s_ when Dean, on the brink of his orgasm, knew what tonight was all about.  His alpha’s knot and release was filling him up, stretching him, yet...Cas hadn’t slowed down his pace a bit.  Not like their first time together.  No, his alpha was a man of his words: ready and willing to see exactly what the omega could take and Dean was fuckin'  _intoxicated_ fromthe idea—

“Oh, _God, yes—_ ” Dean bucked and writhed backwards, as Cas’ panting turned ragged, hips jerking.

This time, they came together.

And Cas wasn’t done.

The heady rush had Dean babbling a string of curses and pleas.  He wanted _everything_ Cas could give him, and he wanted Cas to know.  Even if he _was_ dizzy and about to collapse.  Dean tried his best to stay upright, the sensation of his body being pushed to the limits…it was addicting, something he never knew he wanted, Cas blowing a third load inside him.

They both crashed down onto their sides, instantly latching onto each other however the could, and Dean…

Well, he was smirking.  Cas was spent from the physical activity—he’d fucked him harder than Dean had ever been fucked in his life.  There _was_ one good thing that came from being restrained and powerless.

While the alpha was wiped out, the omega still had a little fight left in him.  Dean could still lazily rock backwards onto Cas’ sensitive, hair-trigger knot, and rip a gasp from his chest.

Immediately, he was stumbling over the words, “D-Dean, _no_ , you _can’t—_ ” Cas’ hold was ironclad when he tried to steady his hips, “I don’t want to hurt you—”

“You started this, I’m gonna end it.”  He knew damn well Cas was finally his for the taking, having the alpha wrapped around his little finger (even for a few minutes), he’d exploit it.  Especially because he had been powerless when Cas fucked him into next week...

Once Dean’s head was clear, and he was able to truly bask in all the sounds of Cas’ pleasure?

It didn’t matter that he truly _was_ pushed to the brink and spread thin beyond his limits—taking in the glory of his alpha was _so worth it_.  The way Cas twisted, the final, last bits of energy being siphoned from him, drained through rapture.  He muscled through exhaustion to clutch at Dean—the fact that the omega felt his insides rearranging wasn’t even on his radar.  If only he could _watch_ Cas…

“ _F-fuck—_ ” Cas buried his face against Dean’s back, sucking in lungfuls of his scent, “I love you.  You’re…wow…”

That made all the difference, it made him light up like the sun.  Maybe Dean was trying to adjust, relax and…deal with the consequences of his choice.  Hearing those words from his future alpha would never get old.  No matter how bad he was sweating and kind of straining, he wasn’t _hurt_ or anything.

Dean took in a deep, soothing breath and sighed out, “I love you, babe.”  He easily diverted attention away from him and (because he wanted to know) asked, “ _Damn_ , what got into you tonight anyway?”

With a thoughtful hum, Cas slowly and methodically helped ridding Dean of the shirt still clinging to his body.  “You have an... _unprecedented_ affect on me, I suppose.  I wouldn't know where to begin, counting how many fantasies of you I’ve had.  Things I want to do to you, with you, and—”

“Take advantage of my omega virginity?” he helpfully supplied, tossing away the gross shirt, ecstatic to be rid of it.

Cas’ scent soured very subtly, his tone also changing a lilt.  “It’s…not about you being an omega, it never has been.  It’s about you being _Dean_.  I hadn’t meant it like that, you should know I—”

“Relax, it's a joke,” he whispered, finding Cas’ hand, needing to kiss his knuckles—unfortunately, it was one of the only places his mouth could reach.  Of friggin course, the sex was phenomenal, but Dean could really use some sweet, tender kisses from his alpha in the afterglow.  To help him out with the things on his mind.  “I’m teasing you.  Whether or not you meant it doesn't matter, I guess for me?  It’s…a weird journey.  C’mon, you get it, seeing it from my side: can't you imagine how different this all is?”

Slowly, he confirmed, “I can.  And maybe a small part of me is making sure you’re still alright with everything between us—on every level.”

“When we mate, I _am_ mating an alpha.  And there’s no one I’d rather experiment with.  I’m not sayin’ I’m, uh, promiscuous or anything, but I know a lot about some things, but next to nothing about _this._   Yeah.  Being with an alpha _is_ new to me, _really_ new to me, and...I trust you.”  Dean made it a point to say _when_ , not if, about mating.  While he did so with pride, the rest of his thoughts came out with a jumbled rawness he hadn't planned.  Well, why not go with it?  “Being an omega and, uh, _accepting it_ isn’t hard when I’m with you.  It feels more natural than I thought it would.  You know that, right?”

There was a shy joy in his voice.  “Now that you’ve told me, I do.  You’ve awakened an unfamiliar piece of my alpha, too, a facet I didn’t know was there.”

“The sexy, bossy and possessive part?” Dean snickered and, just to torture him, clenched his muscles down around Cas' dick—eliciting a whimper.  “I knew about the protective, stand-up, leader part already.  It's all in the same ballpark, only the context's changed.  You’re a tried and true purebred, Cas.”

He huffed and spread a pattern of kisses across Dean’s bare back.  “I wouldn’t say _bossy…_ ”

“But you agree with everything else?”  With a affectionate roll of his eyes, Dean muttered, “Of course, you would.”

“I’ve always been, well, possessive when it comes to you.  I’ve never been discreet about it either.  That's part of the reason I was surprised it took you so long to realize it.”  Cas’ words were so casual, yet they caused Dean’s heart to pick up speed.  “And yes, I’ve always been this sexy.”

“You’re such a little shithead…” he burst out in laughter, drawn into Cas’ warmth

The exhaustion was settling into his bones, into their very marrow.  Soreness and stretched muscles would be screaming at him tomorrow as a reminder.  And whatever was going on inside?  Even as Dean laid perfectly relaxed, an accidental whimper popped out when he shifted.  Cas pulled him closer, his gut and biological impulse demanded it.

The banter and joking had vanished, Cas was showing yet another side to him: one Dean enjoyed as much as the others.  The doting, loving alpha—it was different from his normal protective, kind nature, this was behind-the-scenes intimacy.    
  
He took his time, worshiping Dean with lingering kisses, the occasional sweep of his tongue—if only to hear Dean's giggle (the omega hated it)—Cas couldn't get enough.  Each sweet caress had them fighting and bargaining against their bodies, threatening to give out from under them.  Cas was dying to connect, anywhere he could reach.

“I take back anything that wasn’t praising the hell outta you,” Dean contentedly purred out.  “You’re the best, Cas…”

He chuckled and brushed his fingertips along the omega’s neck.  “I’ll be the best I can be—for you.”

Dean kept those words at the forefront of his head while he evaluated them, initially thinking they were BS, because Cas never gave himself enough credit.  He was deflecting, downplaying the way he could effortlessly ease Dean into his happy place.  This wasn’t something new, Cas had always been able to pull off, only this time his  _approach_ was handled differently.

Oh well, Dean would play the alpha’s game, he very much enjoyed it.

“You know...to get that title—being the best, and all?  I'll give you a hint so you can win, fast: a _three-peat_.  Repeating this whole thing about three more times tonight,” Dean decided with a wicked grin.  “You think you’re up for it?”

Cas’ chuckle shined with glee, agreeing, “I know I will be.  The question is, will you?” he wondered, dragging his hand along Dean’s swollen middle.

Okay, so Dean squirmed and shrunk away, slapping Cas' dirty mitts, but _fuck—_ at the time, it was mind-blowing and goddamn amazing.  Dean was only feeling the after-effects now.  Eventually (more like rapidly approaching), his alpha’s knot would subside and they’d have some serious clean-up to do.  It was _so_ worth it.

“Damn right, I'll be,” he clucked his tongue, scent filled with brash bravado and warmth—Cas found it absolutely enticing.  “Now that I have you, I gotta show you all the reasons for you to stick around.”

“Well, while the sex _is_ phenomenal, I already have so many others to—”

Dean interrupted.  “We’ll stick with phenomenal sex tonight, okay?”  After a brief pause, he added, “Can’t get enough, you've got me hooked.  Finally being with you like this.  It means something, maybe you don’t understand but…” he fought for the correct words, unlike himself, the alpha didn’t cut him off, _that_ would’ve been easier.  Way too easy.

Finally, the omega decided to go with, “It’s another way for us to connect.  We’re already connected in so many different ways, maybe...I want us to catch up on this one.  On something we could’ve been doing for a long time.”

There was a lull, Dean winced as Cas began gauging the tug of his knot against Dean’s rim, judging if he had leeway to make his escape.  He managed to do it—but he didn’t pull out completely.    
  
Instead, he surprised Dean, Cas paused to linger halfway, causing the omega's breath to shake and his body began quivering from head to toe.

“Whatever you’d like, I certainly won’t complain.  Especially on a night filled with making you cum, over and over and over again,” Cas’ voice was next to his ear, and he warned, “Things are about to get messy.  I assume that’s fine with you, right?”

Dean nodded, it was inevitable, and looked on the bright side.  By demanding, “Go ahead, let’s get sloppy.  Means you can finally get yer ass over here and fuckin’ kiss me.  I miss your lips, Cas.”

The happiness in Cas’ scent confirmed Dean wasn’t the only one who missed it.  They also wanted to take in shifting expressions, to kiss the hell out of one another, for Dean: to appreciate how goddamn beautiful Cas was.    
  
Based on that thought alone, Dean arrived at an executive decision: the next time they came together, they’d make love in a position that never required them to be torn apart.  Yeah, it may be cheesy, but with all this being new, Dean’s obsession with kissing Cas came with the territory.  He wanted it now, and—

“Oh, _Jesusfuck—_!”

“Dean, I told you—!”


	7. Chapter Six

When the morning came, Dean woke with a million feelings in his body and two million thoughts in his head.  He was pleasantly sore, warm and content, buzzing with excitement—his reasons were endless.

Even though he wished he could lay there, soak up the amazing scent that was his future alpha ( _damn_ , did Cas smell fantastic), the alarm _was_ going off for a purpose...  

It was Sam’s big day!    
  
Recalling that little _huge-ass_ tidbit was motivation to shoot out of bed instead of hitting the snooze button like he usually did.  Dean smiled as Cas grumbled incoherently, pulling the sheet over his head to protect him from the sun.    
  
This was common, Cas’ own petulant ‘five more minutes’ while he fought against the mere _idea_ of being conscious—the grouchy alpha was so friggin adorable.

Dean was ready.  This was what he’d traveled cross-country for, and for the first time, he felt like he had the rest of his life to spend with Cas.  He only saw his baby brother graduate once.

As soon as he’d gotten their things arranged, showered, and began brewing their coffee, the omega turned his attention back to the ball curled up under the covers.

He flopped back down onto the bed, poking where he guessed Cas’ side was, and chuckled.  “C’mon, babe.  We’re meeting everyone down in the lobby in an hour.  Don’t you wanna prove how nice you clean up?  Show off how damn pretty you—”

“An _hour_?” Cas jolted out of bed, eyes wide as saucers, “You let me sleep _so long_ that—”

“Shh…”  He cuffed his finger under Cas’ chin and pulled him into a sweet kiss.  “I’ve already ironed the wrinkles out of our suits.  I snuck downstairs and grabbed some snacks from the breakfast bar.  I’ve got some caffeine ready to go for you.  All _you_ need is a hot shower and some coiffing.”  Dean paused, because while he was planning on kissing Cas again, something else caught his attention— “Why do you smell like _that_?”

Finally meeting the alpha’s gaze, Cas’ jaw was agape, staring at Dean in wonderment.

“Uh, Cas…”

The alpha shook his head in disbelief, laughing, “Did you wake suddenly  _domesticated_ , knowing you were my omega?”  Cas finally moved from his stupor, to cradle Dean’s cheek and admonished, “Don’t glare at me like that.  It’s a compliment.  I’m very impressed.  And thankful.  That you’ve allowed me to sleep while you’ve stepped up and done... _all this,_ when you didn’t have to.  When it should’ve been _my_ job.”

“Hey!”  Dean growled and tugged his ‘delicate’ touch away.  Although he couldn’t muffle his grin or his giddy scent.  “I was tryin’ to do something nice!  First and last time I pamper you, you dick.”  With a halfhearted punch to Cas’ shoulders, he stood up and reminded, “You gotta start getting ready, it’s a big day!”

The announcement resonated with Cas, just as the reasoning for Dean’s pep and efforts finally clicked.

“You’re right.”  Cas agreed and shamelessly walked to the bathroom, nakedness and all.  “Today’s very important.  I’ll hurry.”

Dean clucked his tongue and drew out, “Well, take your time strutting away—I’ll appreciate that ass as long as you let me...”

“It’s unfortunate.  You letting me sleep when I could’ve joined you in the shower.”  Right before he closed the door, the alpha added, “Would’ve made for an exciting morning.”

“I did that on purpose!” Dean shouted, as Cas shut himself in.  “I don’t trust you!”

A wide smile wormed its way onto Dean’s face, because he could hear Cas muttering choice words under his breath, even as the shower spray filled the room with white noise.  Today was already shaping up, it had all the workings and pathways that could lead to perfection.

While Cas prepared, Dean went ahead and put on his own finishing touching, which included getting into another nice get-up.  Two ties in two days was a little much for him, he’d be happy to return to flannels and jeans again.

“Domesticated omega…” Dean groused, mumbling the phrase in annoyance.  “No way in hell am I _domestic…_ ”  Except, when he caught sight of the iron and ironing board sitting neatly in the corner, he wondered aloud, “Oh _fuck_ … _am I—_?” in terror.

No.   _Nope_.  No way in hell.

He’d clear his mind as he dressed, like he was supposed to, and stick to today’s plans!   _Not_ mulling over how he _totally_ played the omega role to Cas’ alpha all morning, like a doting, sappy, attentive mate.    
  
_Dear God_ , what was happening to him!?

Where there had been anticipation and nerves the previous day when Dean had been faced with his family, today was completely different.  It was like a new chapter had opened, like Cas had been a part of the Winchester-Harvelle-Singer-Hanscum-Mills clan all along, as they banded together, looking for their seats.

These gatherings were confusing to navigate, but luckily; Sam had explained it in-depth beforehand and sent out a follow-up text.  
  
Their whopping, giant University Commencement Ceremony was at the Stadium tomorrow.  It involved speeches, hours and hours of sitting for _one_ moment Sam’s name was called on the heels of another student, rushed across the stage and followed by _yet another_ kid.    
  
Luckily, they had an alternative event today—one much better planned and tailored for those graduating in Sam's law major.  That’s where the family was now, taking in the sight with tangible excitement.  
  
This intimate assembly for those students was different from the run-of-the-mill, black and white commencements: taking place within a beautiful outdoor set up on the lawn in front of the Law School.

This was the part that _counted—_ where Sam would receive his diploma and stand tall with the fruit of his labors.

Of course, his little brother hadn’t wanted to be a burden, choosing this Saturday event and ordering everyone else who’d traveled to take the Sunday off.  Dean wasn’t too put out by it, he would’ve done the same thing—that stadium, the people, the parking, it was _overwhelming_!    
  
This place, you could scent love from the crowd, Sam could truly shine here.  He was able to be seen and recognized by his peers, teachers and those who supported him—it was much better than being a number rushing across a stage.

Sam had also told Dean (while drinking at the club) he’d probably ditch out on Sunday anyway.  The massive ceremony wasn’t required and the event was more stress, more trouble than it was worth.  After all this ‘quality time,’ he’d need a break.

As they moved through the crowd to find their seats, Cas’ hand naturally found its way into Dean’s.  He was glowing as the small village slid into a row of chairs, easily filling every seat.  Thank God, there weren't any random stragglers eyeing their close-up empty row, the last thing they needed was starting a fuss over presenting tickets and kicking someone out of their seats.  
  
Dean knew it would’ve happened too, the present company wasn't afraid of confrontation.  Sam would've been _mortified_ if they started a fight.  
  
They were settling in, ignoring how small the chairs were and counting themselves lucky they were familiar with their neighbors: the Harvelle’s on Cas’ side, Dean’s parents on his own.

The space was quickly filling up, the countdown to eleven nearly here, and that’s when Mary leaned over to Dean.  “Now, I’m not sure what Sam’s told you about the reception here, but remember—we’re having a reception of our own back at his house,” she gave him a meaningful nod.

“It’s in Crocker Garden, isn’t it?” Cas asked, attuned with the omega and the conversation.  “I wish my campus had looked like this.  It’s lovely here.”

Mary directed a warm smile to Cas when she confirmed, “It _is_ a beautiful place to hold the ceremony, isn’t it?”  Then turned her focus back to Dean, getting straight to the point, “ _Don’t_ ruin your appetite.”

Jo burst out laughing from Cas’ side and slapped her thigh in amusement.  She leaned all the way over to Mary, still giggling and flicked Dean’s arm.  “I love you _still_ have to tell your son not to pig out in public!”

“Hey!” Dean protested, attacked from both sides.  “If there’s food, I’m gonna eat it!  Nothing wrong with enjoying the experience!”  His protest ended when he slumped back in the chair and gruffly accused, “You guys are jerks.”

“I helped put together the menu for _our_ private party,” Jo continued, lowering her volume as the music began to play.  “Trust me, you’re gonna wanna save room for what Mom and I made.”

“I would trust her, Dean,” Cas decided to helpfully add his two-cents.  “You’ve told me on numerous occasions how much you love Ellen’s cooking.  I’m sure that extends to Jo’s menu planning, if not the entire spread.”

“Traitor.”  Dean huffed playfully and kissed his cheek.  “You smart, smart traitor.”

A shrill hint of feedback hit the microphone, their attention zooming to the front, watching the man who’d been standing on top of the platform step up the to podium.    
  
As his introduction began, Dean’s fucking smile broadened, and it never stopped, not once he caught sight of his brother—marching in with the rest of the class to fill the seats as the ceremony proceeded.

Sam and his damn height…in that cap, even sitting down, Dean could pick him out of the crowd.

As the speeches were delivered, and he continued to glance down between his brother and the stage, Dean was surprised.  He was captivated by every moment when he’d normally find a type of presentation like this dull.  Not today.  Not a fleeting moment.

The light breeze whisking under the stage’s extended covering brought Dean an even more amazing collection of scents.  He could smell each of his family’s joy from down the row, but he was pretty damn sure no one was as ecstatic as he.

God, Dean remembered with _clarity_ the night Sam confessed that he wanted to make something out of himself.  That he didn’t want to follow in John’s footsteps, running the auto-body shop, and that was the push Dean needed to follow his own dreams.    
  
He was in his little brother’s corner, even when it caused hell with John, because he believed in him.  Sam gave him a reason to hope, to believe something bigger and better was out there, and you should never ‘just settle.’  You needed to dream big and, _dammit_ , Sammy did it!  

As the students were called up one by one, Dean was surprised—

He knew he was proud of his brother, but it wasn’t until Sam began his trek up towards that stage, that Dean’s chest tighten...and he felt like he was gonna tear up.  Fuck.  
  
In a flash, he became acutely aware of both Cas’ hand squeezing his and a sweet kiss pressed to his temple— _wow—_

Being able to share this with Cas?  Such a big milestone in their lives, having the alpha next to him, it felt _so right._  

This was where Cas was meant to be.  Part of the family, here with Dean in these life-changing moments, being supportive of not only him, but those _Dean loved_.

Once Sam’s name was called and echoed over the speakers, everyone in the group began clapping, whistling and cheering wildly.

They could see Sam’s grin from the audience, he waved over to his own fan-base before crossing over and shaking the Dean of Student’s hand.  Who knew if he was embarrassed or not, but one thing was for sure: no one there had a more enthusiastic and rowdy group than Sam Winchester.

Stanford Law Graduate.  And Dean’s little brother.

Yeah, he was _totally_ tearing up.  
  


Dean had been running so high on all these emotions, he’d gone and made a stupid mistake.

Everyone had been revved up when the now-alumna shuffled off, ready to be reunited, time moved in fast-forward.

Who knew a simple split-second slip of the tongue where Dean wasn’t thinking would matter so much to Cas.  He had _no idea—_

They made it out of the ceremony with no gross sobbing on Dean’s part— _maybe_ , perhaps, _fine_ : there _was_ a single man-tear.  To stifle the close-call of more, the instant he saw him, Dean tackled his brother.  He was the first of _many_.

There was another hour and a half of the reception, ( _fine_ , _women_!—he’d actively limited his food-intake, he expected a reward back at the house...) and everyone was taking pictures until their cheeks hurt, and their arms _ached_ from hugging freaking everyone in sight.  

In passing, Sam introduced a few of his friends from the program, and they chatted vaguely—in wistful optimism—about everyone's ‘what next’s.    
  
So much was happening, it was still early, and they had a full day still ahead.  Dean was riding on some kind high, raring to go!  Others had started to peel off, one after another, to head to the party back at Sam’s.  The Man of the Hour would meet everyone back there, and by then: the party could really begin.

Sam had no clue what to look forward to back at the house.  He’d been preparing on campus all morning, while others took control and now lordered over his home.  Hell, Dean wondered if his roommates were back, or if it _was_ a complete and utter Family Takeover.  
  
That thought was _terrifying_.

Whatever the answer, it was Dean and Cas' time to exit.  Sam needed to take his time saying private goodbyes to a couple fellow classmates.  Watching that part from a distance, knowing the relationships his brother had built up through all this years, being able to glance in from outside...it was bittersweet.    
  
Yeah, Sam’s victory came with a bright future, but it was devoid of all those countless study-buddies and late-night freak-out SOS calls he’d made to his friends, it was just impossible to have it all, wasn’t it?  
  
Dean was ready to duck out, giving Sam as much time as he needed with those friends, not knowing who was coming to the reception and who wasn’t.  He was sure words needed to be said, and maybe Sam had some tears in him.  The alpha sure as hell wasn’t gonna let them flow with Dean hovering, it was time to fly the coop!

Mary and John were about five minutes out ahead of them with the same idea, so this was the first time he and Cas had been alone since that morning.  Dean was bubbling and bouncing in his steps, the parking lot not as horrendous (and terrifying for Baby‘s paint job) as it had been before the ceremony.

Right before they got into the Impala to head for their one final, farewell gathering, Dean slapped Cas on the back with the victorious announcement, “Damn, that was flawless!  We totally nailed the job and fooled ‘em!”

The alpha’s back went rigid under his touch, and he slowly repeated, “Job? _…fooled_?”

See, this was where Dean could have bullshitted anyone else.  Where he should’ve easily come up with a retort on the fly.  He _totally_ could have diverted anyone’s attention elsewhere—engage him with a good line, make those words about something completely different—but...he could _never_ lie to Cas.  
  
It wasn’t in him, Dean had never attempted, and he didn’t want to.

His words were his words, even though they were the _wrong ones_ in an endorphin-filled rush of accomplishment.  All Dean could come up with was a genuine, “You…know I didn’t mean that.”

Instead of the expected a frown, there was a glare.  One that viscerally shot through the omega, sending him staggering backwards a few steps.  Dammit, he knew it was especially bad when Cas wordlessly dove into the passenger’s side of the car.  

The only thing for Dean to do to fix this, was to follow.  Beg.  Plead for forgiveness.   _Anything_.

As soon as his ass landed on the seat, he was met with Cas _right there_ , in his face.  “You slipped.  I know you, Dean, maybe better than you even _know_.  Do you still truly believe our charade is just that?  A _charade_?”  

That initial ferocity faded into something else, something Dean was even worse at handling than anger.  Hell yeah, anger, he could tackle and usually placate.  
  
But...when the alpha groaned and sunk backwards in defeat, everything changed.  Cas’ eyes were unfocused as he stared off ahead.  “A job,” he scoffed.  “This isn’t a joke.  Not any more.  This is our lives and future, yet a part of you _still believes_ it’s an act.”

“No, no, no,” Dean’s words were urgent as he dove across the bench seat, but was forcefully pushed away.  “Dammit!  You seriously think any part is an act?  Why would I keep it up when we have no audience!  Are _you_ having second thoughts, and you looking for a way out?  Any minute itty-bitty fuck-up to derail it all?  To get _you_ a ticket out without making it look like it’s your fault?  Are you trying to escape before we leave this joint?!”

“Dean,” Cas’ voice was a low snarl, “We’re already going to be late.  Drive.”

When they pulled up, arriving to the after party, the dynamic between them felt so forced.  Cas refused to speak to Dean the entire trip, and—while it had been an accusation, something to defend _himself_ in heat of the moment—the omega wondered…what if he was right?

What if Cas _was_ looking for any kind of way out he could find?

This was stupid.  Sure, while their relationship was new, _they weren’t_.  God, they’d been best friends for what felt like forever, and if something so stupid broke them apart, Dean would never forgive himself.  He wasn’t ready to lose his potential mate _and_ his best friend.  

Maybe they’d moved too fast, maybe it wasn’t the right time.  
  
Dean wasn’t ready to give up any time soon, but they needed to trudge onward.

Two of Sam’s buddies had decorated the house while he was out, this was a gathering for both friends and family.  The place was packed.  It was filled with mingling people, food everywhere (all Harvelle specials), drinks, and Dean immediately spotted Charlie running around and taking pictures.

It didn’t take long for her to spot him either.

Especially, since him and Cas parted ways when they walked through the door.

Which left Dean in an even bigger huff, because where the hell was the alpha going without him?!  This wasn’t a bar, he couldn’t scout out new company and leave him in the dust!

…Well, now that Dean thought about it....fuck, he _totally could_.

It was Dean’s fault, he’d introduced Cas to everyone here.  There was his family, Dean recognized all the people they’d gone to the club with—the alpha wasn’t short on acquaintances and he was charming to a fault.  Plus…he _could act_ , couldn’t he?  
  
There was no doubt in Dean’s mind the alpha could ‘mingle,’ visit, and shoot the shit with so many party-goers, he wouldn’t need to touch base with the omega for another couple days.  Cas was so well-spoken and engaging, it was Dean who was the one hurting in this department, which was why he fucking _needed_ Charlie—

“Hey!” Charlie greeted him with a bit of hesitation, balancing her camera carefully.  “What’s up with you?”

Dean rolled his shoulders and replied, “I need a drink.  Do you wanna drink?  Let’s go get one.”  He took off towards the kitchen without looking back.  Dean knew damn well Charlie _would_ follow him.

She was too nosey not to.

Those words that had fallen so _naturally_ from Dean’s lips left a coiling, tightening pain in Cas’ gut, and he needed space to think.

Maybe deep down, the alpha had known this was too good to be true.  Cas was unable to tell if he’d overreacted or not, he had to step away from the situation to gather his bearings.  Replay the conversation and seek answers.

Dean was impulsive and brave, it was one of the many things that Cas loved about him.  What if he was caught up and in love with the _moment—_ in love with love—rather than the alpha himself?    
  
It happened all the time, couples discovering later, once the fireworks fizzled, they were head over heels for the _feeling_ , not their _intended_.

He and Dean had been living on top of each other for countless days, it only made sense the dam of their attraction would burst.  Was it enough to last forever?  Cas was ready, he wanted it more than he could adequately describe, yet—  
  
He remained vigilant, Cas was equally ready to look for _any_ tell-tale signs in Dean before his hopes pierced through the heavens.

The blurted announcement had been a _big one_.  A red flag Cas couldn’t just sweep under the rug.  Dean was still stuck on the idea this entire weekend was _still about tricking his family_ , when Cas assumed the lie was long-since over.    
  
But it had come from the omega’s mouth.  Loud and clear.  
  
In an ideal world, where everything was still running smoothly, Cas could only assume he meant everything _prior_ to now was the win.  That their _history_ hadn’t been discovered or leaked.

There were so many other ways the omega could’ve rejoiced: “We’re done impressing the family” even a crass, “the bullshit is over and it’s only us now.”

Or what Cas _would’ve_ hoped for, more than anything else: “Now that it’s almost over, we can go home and finally _be together._ ”

This was precisely _why_ Cas wished to wait.    
  
To give Dean time to think about it, no matter how right it felt.  The omega’s perception was constantly changing, evolving, and Cas had to remember: he knew Dean, he should be able to anticipate what was going on in his head.  There was a _reason_ he wasn’t mated.  There was a good chance that the omega may _chose_ to never mate.

If that was the case, the blame didn’t fall on either him nor Dean, it was a mere fact of life and—

“Cas?”

He turned from where he’d been on the outskirts and halfheartedly involved in a conversation with Jo and two of Sam’s friends.

Of all people, he hadn’t expected to see Mary Winchester getting his attention.

He had to slap on a smile and hope it appeared genuine as he greeted her.  “Hello, Mary.  Are you enjoying the party?”

“Of course, especially the company.”  There was a curious expression on her face, and Cas felt himself even _more_ perplexed when she said, “Come take a walk with me.”

He steeled his nerves, he obviously couldn’t refuse, especially so close to the finish line.

This was still a ‘job,’ right?  No matter the stakes, he’d _never_ let Dean down.  It wasn’t in him.

Charlie watched wide-eyed as Dean tossed back three shots in a row.  They were alone in the kitchen, and the omega couldn’t bring himself to give a shit.  Charlie, as one of his good friends, wasn’t going to tattle on him.  Her camera was out of reach on the counter where she was perched—so pics or it didn’t happen, right?

“So…you gonna give me anything to work with?” she asked, tilting her head with a thoughtful pout.  “Or do I gotta guess?  ‘Cause right now, I only got _one_ , and I’m pretty sure I’m right.  Trouble in para—”

“Don’t say it.”  Dean raised an aggressive finger that instantaneously shut her up.  But then, he realized he _had_ made the conscious choice to lead her back here...he needed to throw her a bone.  “Uh, yeah.   _That_.”

There was a lull of silence, where Charlie watched Dean fill up one more shot and toss it back.  He attempted sighing out some of the heaviness weighing him down, reminding himself that Charlie was here now.  It barely made a dent—the freak-out still  _clung_ to him like a damn spider monkey!

As she waited patiently, Dean finally broke—but his word-vomited, “It’s like…all or nothing,” was cryptic, at best.

Charlie was careful, he could tell she was attempting to help him sort through this dilemma when she encouraged, “Okay.  What’s the all-out you need to go through or else you feel like you’re going to lose him?”

“We were best friends.”  Dean’s voice was hushed at the admission, while staring at the ground.  “You know, before we were together, we were best friends for the longest time.  I might’ve messed shit up.  If it came down to it, this wouldn’t be the same as a break-up with some random guy.  Not even close, holy hell.  It’d be fuckin’ _devastating_ , I’d be losing the _one person_ I…” he trailed off, because he couldn’t say it.

This entire plan was a disaster of an idea.  From the very beginning.

He should have never asked, never risked it.  He should have trusted the voice in his head, _screaming_ out all the things that could go wrong.  Dean was well aware of his feelings for Cas, and his uncanny knack for royally fucking things up.  They were bound to fail sooner or later.    
  
Dean was given an inch and he took a mile.  He should have been happy where they were!  What they had was amazing, and now the balance was—

“I dunno what you think you messed up—” it was the _tone_ of Charlie’s voice that had Dean’s eyes shooting to her, confirming she was smirking, like a _jackass_ , “but I’m pretty sure you can fix it with an easy chat.   _Not_ booze.”

She had grabbed the neck of the bottle and pulled it out of his reach.  He still didn’t know why she was wearing that shit-eating grin, but this was _serious_ , and—!

“Dean!”  Charlie reached out and grabbed both his shoulders, shaking him.  “I’ve got an outsider’s view, a better perspective that isn’t clouded by all those little, pesky voices is your head, okay?  You two are _perfect_!  You couldn’t be more perfect, honestly.”  She shook him harder, so violently, he almost tripped from the force.  For a tiny gal, Charlie sure packed a punch!  
  
She admitted, “Yeah, I noticed something may be off or wrong when you came in, but when you and me vamoosed?  Cas _watched_ you.  He’s worried about you.  He _loves you._ Unless you’re using sharp, pointy objects aimed in his direction, I don’t think he’s leaving you anytime soon.”

Dammit, she believed every word she was saying, Charlie was trying to get Dean to believe too.

“I….really, really hope so.”  He flipped around and fell backwards into Charlie’s arms, his head lulling back against her shoulder.  “I seriously fucked up, and I know it. I hope he understands, lets us move on.  I don’t want us to miss our chance...to come _so close_ and barely graze each other.”

Charlie’s wrapped her arms around his chest, humming her understanding.  “You wanna collide.”

“Like a fucking supernova.”

“You already have.”  She assured in a whisper.  “No denying it.  So don’t lie to yourself.  Second we’re out of this shindig?  You tell him what you told me, don’t hold back.  That’ll be enough to smooth _anything_ over.  You’re much more romantic than you give yourself credit for.  In a good way.”

Dean chuckled and gripped Charlie’s wrist, her words resonating and making him feel more confident.  Although his request, “I know you gotta take pictures and everything, but can we just stay in here?  For a couple more minutes...” was much more tentative.

“Yeah.”  Charlie added on the playful comment, “Later when I get the SD card to Sam I can blame the elapsed time on you, anyway.  He’ll get it.”

“By then, one way or another, this will have played out and Sam’ll know anyway.”  Dean ruefully admitted.  “You can most _definitely_ blame it on me.”

When Mary suggested they ‘take a walk,’ Cas assumed it would be around the outskirts of the party to chat about the very same thing; how the celebration was unfolding in a wonderful manner.  
  
Mary did a damn good job of surprising him.  Why should the alpha be stunned, this must be genetic, he decided.  This was _Dean’s mother_.

She not only navigated them outside, but down to the sidewalk and around the entire neighborhood.  This was intimate, one-on-one and rather (extremely) intimating.

Of course, all his interactions with Mary had been positive or informal in passing, so he couldn’t imagine why she wished for this kind of absolute privacy.  Unless she had a hell of a poker face and needed to get some things off her chest.

It was at that realization, once they were down the block, when Cas feared the worst.  He could only pray it didn’t read through his scent or body language.  He continued on, walking in time with their synced-up pace, waiting on bated breath for the omega to strike up the conversation.  Clearly, she was lying in wait.

“I needed this—fresh air.”  Those were the first words Mary spoke.  After a crowded gathering, Cas could agree.  

Her next, “After all of the years Dean’s spoken about you, seeing you the first time was like seeing a ghost, you know?  But you’re _exactly_ as I pictured.  Down to your eyes,” managed to catch him off guard.

“My…eyes?” Cas stuttered, and then found himself laughing, “How did you know about that?”  
  
The alpha found himself rattled, because something so specific was either a demand from the parents, Dean grasping at straws or...something else.  Whatever Mary said next would unveil the mystery Cas was on the verge of solving.

There was little to no joy when Mary tugged her cardigan tighter and addressed Cas with a degree of severity.  “It was a late night and John had been drinking.  My husband, well, he’s a traditionalist.  And occasionally, an angry drunk.  He was frustrated—got it into his head that Dean was lying to us about the courting...it was a bad night.  John snapped.  He started screaming at my boy, giving him the third degree, telling him everything out of his mouth was bullshit—it was on speakerphone.”    
  
Mary bloomed with a fond, gentle smile when she said, “I was  _so glad_ to rub it in John’s face.  Dean described you _perfectly_.”

Cas’ heart began pounding harder, faster.  Impossibly more so, when Mary went on, “Your kindness, your dry humor, and…how much he cares about you.”  
  
The light bulb flickered on.  Cas realized: Dean _had been_  using him for inspiration, graphically depicting him and (possibly _—_ Cas hoped) _wishing_ for him since the beginning.  
  
Dean had committed wholeheartedly, through all these years, to get his family off his back.  He had never strayed from his story and—

Rather than painting a picture of some vague man in the shadows, which would've been the smart choice, Dean went for the kill.    
  
In his moment of panic and crisis—the omega directly sought comfort…by imagining Cas.  His confidence in the white lie grew stronger, knowing in his gut the alpha wouldn’t have a problem being his muse.  Hell, he’d encourage it—Dean could lay out his their life together in vivid color however he wanted.  They could handle anything his parents threw at them.    
  
The only thing was...there was no 'them.'  Cas _never_ got word this had happened.  Meanwhile, Dean’s entire family already knew all these painstaking details about Cas.   _Dean's_ alpha.  The fact he was never let in was telling.  
  
The omega's _newest_ mistake ironically showed he could commit: both to his fiction and Cas.  This revelation buried Dean's initial slip-of-the-tongue six feet under.  Dean hadn't avoided Cas because he was ashamed (the omega didn't _have_ shame) he kept it to himself for the same reason they'd danced around each other for so long.  It served as proof.  Dean’s heart always belonged to him, or why would he keep it private?    
  
Maybe Dean had always been an optimist—maybe he was, always had been, all in.  
  
Fuck, Cas tried wrapping his head about this, and he _still_ needed to respond to Dean’s freaking mother!

“I…care deeply about your son.  Well...” Cas pursed his lips, and decided to go for it.  She knew him, right?  Being straight forward and frank was how he handled things.  “I care about him more than I have anyone else in my life.  I love Dean.  If you brought me out to ask my intentions, Mary, that’s my answer.”

Her pace slowed as she shook her head.  “Everyone can see how much you two love each other.  I thought it’d be best to give you some advice.”  Yes, his ears had perked up, but he had not anticipated Mary’s, “I wanted to tell you to be patient with Dean.”

“Patient?” Cas turned around, both coming to a stop right as they completed a full circle around the block.

They were prolonging their return, the women had more to stay.  Mary’s stare was intense, especially as their eyes locked, it became unnerving—she looked straight into his damn _soul_.  

“After that phone call, no one bothered or harassed Dean again.  There was no doubt in my mind he had someone.  While John still bitched and moaned, he didn’t question Dean.  I think deep down he knew, and he hated being wrong.  No one can make that up, you can’t fabricate love and hope it turns out okay.  I’ve gotta say, _wow_ …the _power_ behind his voice when he spoke of you.”  There was a knowing smile on her face, mixed with something mischievous.  “You’ve been together a while.  It’s a long time for an alpha to wait.  I have a strong feeling my boy’s gotten into trouble with you more than a couple times.  But you wanna know a secret?”  
  
Yes, Cas would like that very much.  He nodded, holding a sharp inhale.  
  
Mary was glowing when she divulged, “I’ve never, _ever_ seen him smile the way he does when he’s with you.  I didn’t know he _could_!”  She took one step in, close enough to touch his arm.  “That’s why I’m hoping you’ll be patient with him.  He’s worth it.”

“I know,” the words flowed, “It doesn’t feel like waiting for anything, being together is more than enough.”

Mary was taken aback by the response, and thank God, Cas could scent a wave translating to approval.  “I’m glad you two found each other.”  She began walking again and waved him to follow, “Shall we return to the party?”

“Farewell, fresh air,” Cas chuckled, holding the door open for her.

God, that conversation was exactly what he needed to put things into perspective—it reminded him how good he had it.    
  
Cas needed to be that alpha Mary saw.  The unexpected diamond in the rough, and dammit, he wanted to be!  He was going to step up his game with energy and determination, filling his role as the alpha Dean deserved, the alpha who made him happy, took care of him.  
  
Mary’s advice was interesting, she saw her son in a different light and Cas took the time to change his perspective, attempting to see through her eyes.  As reckless and assertive as the omega was—Castiel could absolutely see Dean taking his time when he imagined what his future looked like.    
  
Actually...now that Cas thought about it, he'd watched it play out through personal experience.  
  
Dean had always wanted to shape it himself, he refused to let others influence him.  He would _always_ wait out the big things until his decision was rock-solid.    
  
Before the stupid incident, they were _ready_ , both filled with love and excitement, Cas wanted to go back to that.  Pick up where they left off.  He needed to make damn sure that once he cleaned up the messy parts, Dean would be back to himself and they could skate on past it all.  This wasn’t the time for second-guessing them.

It was _their time_ , period.


	8. Chapter Seven

There weren’t flashing lights with the shouted words, “Last call!”  There wasn’t some announcement over the loud speaks, interrupting the dance music, telling all the party-goers to pack up and clear out.

It was slow and subtle.

The food began disappearing from the tables, eventually, the drinks were taken back into the kitchen.  Before Dean knew it, all of Sam’s friends had left and it was only family remaining.

Charlie was a huge part of setting up, and since her camera duties were finished, she’d taken up work with a dust pan and broom.  This, right here, was the official sign it was time to head out—either for the night, or the entire weekend.  It was probably for the best, Sam had to be exhausted from all the festivities, in addition to all the events leading up to this day.

In fact, he was stretching out and relaxing as he _should_ be: he earned it.  Sam made sure everyone was within earshot when he asked, “So who’s staying another day and who’s headed home?”

Bobby raised his glass, chuckling because Rufus was irritated, being sober as hell, and commented, “Me and this grumpy dick are starting our drive tonight.  Guess who's playin' designated driver?”

“Dean and I will be heading home, as well.” Cas answered with a smile and it seemed…genuine?

Like, his whole demeanor had shifted, and with that statement—he even move closer to Dean.  While everyone else confirmed they had another night in their hotel, Dean kept watching Cas, studying his body language and he’d—for lack of a better word—uh, lightened up.

Cas wasn’t tense and restrained by misery and helplessness, and…maybe Charlie was right.  Maybe this was salvageable.  All Dean had given him was time and space, even though they’d be driving back together and _more space_ wasn’t exactly part of the game, he _could_ continue to give him time—right?

Speaking of hitting it, he heard Sam, right behind him, hugging Jo and saying, “It was so good to see you!”  That meant everything was wrapping up damn fast!

That also meant Dean had to get to Charlie!

They didn’t need the isolation of the kitchen.  Where she was, sweeping the shoe-gunk around the entryway out would suffice.  Charlie obviously hadn’t seen him coming, because she yelped when he wrapped his arms around her and he whispered, “Thank you.  You were right, I think we’re gonna be okay.”

While she almost scuttled out of fear, once she realized it was Dean her fight or flight response had her cursing, “What the flip!  Can’t you see I’m focusing here?!”  Just as quickly, her ferocity subsided and she sneaked a peek at Cas, who was saying goodbye to the Harvelle’s.  “I told you.  Meant to be.  He’s lookin' feistier already.”

“I’m gonna make it work.  Even if I have to strap him to a chair until he says he loves me again,” Dean declared, and nuzzled his forehead into her vibrant red hair to annoy her.

Charlie used both her fists, balling them up, for a double-whack to keep Dean away.  She snorted, “Stockholm Syndrome, huh?  I guess if you gotta make it work, ya make it work.”

“Worst case scenario.  I’ve got _loads_ of schemes before I head down that path.  Plus, I’ll need to locate a dungeon, first…let me know if you find any for sale, the market’s a bitch right now.”  Dean chuckled and Charlie began to join him cackling over stupid tangents—this was the standard of their friendship: being imaginative, immature,dumbasses together.

“Hey, I heard it was a buyer’s market!  I’ll keep my eye open for _prime_ dungeon property, but you should look around for a realtor.  Just hit me up for advice when you're deciding to buy or lease, yeah?”  Charlie pursed her lips before she launched at him and latched on.  “Dammit, I’m gonna miss you!  Why don’t we live closer together?!”

Dean mournfully agreed, “I really hate it.  You can come visit me and Cas whenever you want.  Who knows, you may wanna stay!”  He clung back, just as tightly, not wanting to let go.  “And thanks.  For everything.  For being my listening ear today.  And at the club, just…always.”

“You know I’m good for your ‘always.’”  She heaved a shaky sigh as they parted—they both loathed this part.  “Goodbyes suck.  I’ll disappear.  I don’t want to do anymore of these.”

“Fair enough.”  The omega nodded, encouragingly adding, “Hurry, hurry!  Go around the outside so you won’t be spotted!”

Charlie winked and did just that.  God, he’d miss her.

That was when Dean realized Cas was walking up to Sam.  It was gonna look bad if Dean wasn’t there, standing next to his alpha.  Not only in front of his brother, but in front of the family still there.  Which included his parents.

Dean hustled over, hoping like hell it didn’t look forced, and projected out, “What’d I miss?”

Cas, God bless him, actually wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist (the omega unfortunately could feel it was for show, but he _was_ trying) and said, “I was congratulating Sam again.  And telling him how you most certainly _didn’t_ cry during the ceremony.”

Puffing up and dramatically narrowing his eyes, his glared at Cas then to Sam.  “You know what?  There was an eyelash in my eye!  Or something.  For a while.  And my hands were dirty so I couldn’t dig it out…”

“Actually,” Sam's scent carried undertones showing how drained he was, but it was overshadowed by the joy he was feeling, “Today...everything about it, it meant so much to me.  I wanted to make everyone proud, and I’m so glad you were able to come.  Both of you. I’m happy for you guys, too.”

“Hush, this weekend is _still_ about you!”  Dean squeezed his brother’s shoulder, while Sam huffed a groan.

“The trip is basically done.  According to all the paperwork, I’m an alumna!  Now I can focus on whatever I want, and maybe that's you guys…”  Sam’s attention was flitting back and forth between them, before he finally said, “I always knew you two were good for each other.  I didn’t want to say anything and make it weird.  But I’m stoked you got your heads outta your asses and finally got together.  You were meant to be together.”

“Okay, okay!” Dean cut him off before Sam embarrassed him more (or anyone else heard his brother's slightly-buzzed rambling) by diving forward and embracing him.  “We had a blast while we were here.  You keep in touch, ya hear?”

Sam returned the hug and heartily agreed, “’Course I will.  If you have a party to celebrate your mating or anything, you better let me know, alright?  I’ve been trapped in Palo Alto for so long and I actually have time off, I want to do some traveling.”

“You’re always welcome with us, anytime you want to visit, you have a home away from home,” Cas’ sincerity and the way he interacted with his brother, made Dean glow.  He loved how friggin perfectly he became one of the family, just like that—

And it was hilarious to watch Cas and Sam gawkily figure out through pauses and false-starts if they were shaking hands or hugging.

The hug won out in the end.

“Can I raid the fridge for some drinks?" Dean snickered and asked Sam.  After the affirmative nod, he told Cas, “I’m gonna grab some goodies for the road.  Like that tea you like, Coke, maybe a Mountain Dew to keep us awake.”

“Very good idea,” Cas agreed, and in the next moment, Dean turned his back.

While the omega frowned, he had limited time to ‘go shopping’ and make the most out of Sam’s fridge and the daylight they still had.  It was a race to begin their road trip home!

Not a second after Dean mentioned the beverages, did Cas hear his name called from behind him.  As he followed, he found Mary.

On the surface—as a cover, she openly pulled her ‘future son-in-law’ into a hug, announcing for any eavesdroppers, “I’m thrilled we finally got to meet, Castiel.  You’re already a Winchester!”

When she was close enough, she had a hushed message that was for Cas’ ears only.  “Remember what I said?  And remember what you said.  About being with him—how waiting to mate doesn't matter.  I can see there’s tension, so please, be a man of your word:  _be with him_.  I'm trusting you with my boy's heart, Cas.  I truly believe it's in good hands.”

Mary’s belief in him…it was remarkable.

Cas returned with conviction, “I won’t let you or _Dean_ down.  I swear.  I’ll prove worthy of your trust.”

When she withdrew, she smiled brightly.  “I know that.  There’s no doubt in my mind.”  Mary peered over Cas’ shoulder and fondly rolled her eyes, “It looks like Dean has gotten drinks for the entire trip home, in addition to groceries for your freezer.”

The alpha turned around and saw his omega with countless plastic grocery bags swinging from his wrists and forearms.  Knocking against people while he continued to apologize on loop, Dean finished up his goodbyes as Cas watched on.  

His damn heart was filled with affection and love, this cut-out, this image was so _Dean_.

He could feel Mary’s eyes on him—but more than anything, the overwhelming scent of delight rushed from her like a flash-flood.  

The scent poured out while Cas watched Dean—Mary clearly saw something in the way the alpha was observing her son.  God, Cas was nervous, but Mary’s scent elevated his mood.  It made him think—it made him _remember_ —everything would be okay.

Perhaps, it may take a bit of time and a little work, but they’d fix them.

Hell, they could just jump in the car, begin chatting, and they’d be ’fixed.’  They’d naturally fall back into being best friends, and have that easy connection again in the blink of an eye.    
  
That wasn't good enough anymore.  What would take time and work, what Cas _meant_ and what he _wanted_  was more permanent.

He wanted Dean for a mate.  That was his goal: he was aiming high and would no longer be satisfied with anything less.

The current situation was complicated.

Both men had hope in their hearts, like a gas tank half-filled by the words and encouragement of others, and the other half topped off from belief in themselves.  In their future—together.  Both knew there would never be anyone else, that they were made for each other, that love would find a way through the mess.

Except…this was really the first time Cas and Dean had been alone since they’d arrived at the party and tension had different melting points.

Both had said their own goodbyes, and now they were staring down a helluva daunting road trip.    
  
One that was supposed to be a time for bouncing enjoyment.  Up until this afternoon, they'd expected a thrilling affair to confirm (or denied—hah—like _that_ was gonna happen) they wanted to mate.

Before Dean was admonished, before they got into a stupid argument, Dean reached into his pocket and walked over to Cas.  “Hey.”

The alpha was surprised by Dean slapping down Baby’s keys into his palm.  Then he wondered why.

To test the water, Dean lingered in his space, hoping that Cas wouldn’t dart away.  Clearing his throat, he explained, “I had a few drinks.  I don’t wanna risk you, me or Baby drivin’.  I’m sure as hell not drunk, but if I got pulled over, I’d blow numbers.”

Instead of dodging him and getting the hell out of there (like Dean prayed he wouldn't) Cas actually leaned in.  And sniffed him.  “Ah.  I see.  Of course, I can drive, it’s no problem.”

Okay, _that_  move made Dean recoil…what the hell had he smelled?  Had it been any time before, he wouldn’t have bristled.  But there was the fact that he couldn’t exactly scent himself, and it apparently  _inconvenienced_  Cas to share his findings—yeah, it bothered him!  
  
The alpha was already on the move, Dean needed to pick up his pace and jump in on the passenger’s side.

Cas had his face buried in the GPS to get out of the subdivision, following all the small turns down half-mile roads.  He had to actively listen and pay attention to the directions, and once they got onto a turnpike or expressway, only then could Cas cruise and Dean speak.

It took an hour to duck and dodge around Palo Alto's streets.  They spent even more time merging, exiting and navigating other smaller highways.  It was about damn time, when GPS finally sang out the sweet words, “Stay on route for ninety-seven miles.”

Dean barely contained himself, he wanted to throw his arms up in celebration, shouting hallelujah!

The pressure was off Cas, too.  He set his cruise control and shimmied around in the seat until he was able to slouch into a comfortable position.  And with Cas _this_ relaxed…

“Hey, babe.  You know I messed up.  That I didn’t mean jack, 'bout what I said, right?” Dean began hesitantly, ready to beg and barter, plead for his case if he had to.

Yet, Cas coolly stared off into the distance and agreed, “I understand, Dean.  I accept your apology.  I allowed my emotions to cloud my judgment and I was much more harsh on you than I should have been.”

Dean’s eyebrows flew all the way to his damn hairline.  “Wow.  Uh, thank you.  I mean, I was the one who fucked up, but thank you for forgiving me and stuff.  Guess this is as good a time as any, I still really, _really_ wanna—”

“No, it’s not a good time.”  The way Cas interjected surprised the hell out of Dean—this hot and cold thing was nothing but mixed signals!  “The conversation I believe you’re leading us towards?  That’s a conversation we both need to be sober for.  Completely and totally sober.”

He wanted to ruefully grumble, ‘You mean me, _I_ have to be sober,’ under his breath—the use of ‘we’ was fuckin’ pointless!  Dean was the only one who’d drank, he knew it, too.  Unless Cas had put something extra-special in that water bottle of his…hm…an omega could only hope—?

“I get it, that’s a good call,” Dean said the words, but they felt hollow, even when he knew Cas was right.

It was just…he didn’t even feel buzzed!  The liquor was basically out of his system, so this waiting game was a waste of time, at best!  They should take advantage of being together by, you know, _talking_!  Discussing, like adults and shit!  They wouldn't be on the road forever and if they wanted to do this, they had to—!  
  
Okay—yeah—Dean needed to find some grounding before he gave away too much of himself.  
  
Well.  Cas had plenty of time to deliberate, now, didn't he?  
  
Inside the stupid, awkward, dead silence of the car, hopefully Cas' previous obsessive 'waiting-game', when it came to mating, would tell him time's up!  Since he had nothing but miles with his thoughts and his friggin _sobriety_ , right?

God, nothing had changed for Dean, no way in hell.  Not once in their time together had he tried to disguise his endgame, or shown a fleck of hesitation in their relationship.  Cas knew it, too—if his eyes and nose worked.  
  
Dean really, really, _really_ hoped this wasn’t a ploy to put their chat off…it was always in the back of his head, warning him heartbreak could be right around the corner.

Would Cas do that to him?  In a million years, Dean couldn’t see it…

No, Cas loved him: as a boyfriend, future mate, best friend.  It didn’t matter what the label was, what shirt he put on that day, there was no way the alpha would act vindictively, selfishly—to hurt Dean just because he could.

It'd make Cas’ alpha cringe, but most importantly: Cas was too respectful and kind.

As the time passed, Dean kept reminding himself.  If anything was wrong, if they were truly broken beyond repair: he’d be let down slowly (and hopefully) it wouldn’t hurt.

…Although, Dean had no clue how he'd live in a world with the alpha.  How he could go a day without Cas in his life, one way or another.  
  
Dean wasn’t even being dramatic, the man was always by his side.  He was always there to cheer him up, spend a Saturday night in with, go corner some asshole who was giving him problems because he was an omega and kick some ass, to call him every night until one of them passed out, be there if... _fuck_...that list—it never ended.

Cas wasn’t a random friend he’d fallen in love with.  He was engraved into every facet of Dean’s life…so many, he was terrified…

When they reached the hotel for the night, it was well after dusk.

Like Dean, Cas wanted to make good time but the reason for plowing ahead made the omega uneasy.

Did he want to get back home, to get away from Dean?  Cas, while social, needed a little more personal space than the average person.  …But the omega had always been welcomed within that personal space.

Or was there another different reason he was rushing?

During the drive, Dean had constantly been taking notes and gauging the current circumstance.  He had nothing better to do than making himself aware of every little scent in the car, even when they rolled down the windows on the highway.  He was trying so desperately to get a fix on Cas’ mood.  Trying like hell to read him.  While his initial anger and hurt faded, he still wore a hell of a poker face.

Sure, Dean was on-edge, but the trip wasn’t particularly traumatic.  Even though they weren’t having the conversation they needed to, they’d flip through stations on the radio, hummed along and enjoy the other’s presence.  It wasn’t _as_ strained as Dean had been expecting.

That’s where he found the balls to announce, “Okay, Cas, I’m totally sober!  Can we have that chat when we‘ve got a room?” as they were both getting out of the Impala and heading towards the front desk.  Before the alpha could respond, Dean also slid in, “We’ve gotta choice to make, too,” nodding towards the office.

“I know.”  Cas picked up his lead, “Two doubles or a king.”

They both stopped right outside the glass door, Cas eyeing Dean with scrutiny as the alpha wondered, “You’re really not running away from this?”

“Fuck no, I’m not!”  He was half-way there, summoning up all the cockiness in the world—but... _couldn’t_ get it up.  Like a limp dick, Dean couldn't force out the bravado he wanted.  The omega fell flat, sounding pretty pathetic with the confession, “Nothing’s changed for me.  I still want everything we talked about.  I know there’s more to it, but…yeah.”

Cas hummed his acknowledgement.  “I’ll get the room, you get our overnight bags," he instructed, and turned his back on Dean, the heavy door slamming in his face.

The omega stood there, stunned for a second before groaning loudly and pacing back to his Baby.  Great, now he was a fucking bellhop!  Demoted from Cas’ partner to something lower, beneath him.

While hauling the duffles out with frustrations, bashing them all over the place and shutting the Impala down, Dean had to remember: Cas saw he wasn’t running away.  They would be stuck together tonight, and _dammit_ , Dean would see this through!  He had to.  Especially while Cas couldn’t run away either!

A whistle caught the omega’s attention.  Dean jerked up and saw Cas waving.  He flashed the room key, waiting for Dean to catch up.  Maybe they should have pulled the Impala around, because this turned into a long walk, trekking down an epic-length corridor towards a cluster of rooms.  Theirs was on the corner—number twenty-eight.

It wasn’t a flimsy key-card, it was a good old fashioned metal.  The alpha had to jimmy it around before he was able to turn the lock.  Those seconds felt like an eternity—you’d think that just _maybe_ Cas would have helped out and grabbed his bag?  You know, the one that belonged to _him_?  Nope!  He was just fine letting Dean—

“Oh, okay then...” Dean offered dumbly as they walked into the room—he honestly hadn’t expected the king bed there, to greet them.  “This is good, right?”

Cas chuckled, locked the door behind them and scooped up both their luggage to set on the small couch.  “I would hope so.  Now, you are ready?”  He kicked off his shoes, Dean gawking at him, at this chance...  “I’ve been thinking over about a million things I had wished to say.  But now, most of them are evading me.”

“Isn’t it funny, how that _always_ happens?” Dean snorted, and followed Cas’ example—shoes gone, and meeting him at the top of the bed.  They were both leaning against the headboard, tilted inward just enough to see the other's expressions, but not enough to touch.  “I’m an asshat.  For my word-vomit and for drinking.”

The omega took in a huge breath before pointing out, “But you already know what I do when I freak out.  When I get all anxious—I turn to the bottle.  It’s not like I got hammered, but admitting it, here and now: even the _idea_ of losing you?  It was enough for me to freak out _and_ kidnap the graduation photographer.”

“Charlie?”  Cas frowned and informed him with a laugh, “I’d heard people wondering where she’d gone.  Jo was not happy about her disappearing.  Heh, it makes so much more sense.  Did she help you?  Or simply help you find a drinking buddy?”

“Nah, Char listened, she didn‘t drink.  Gave me the support I needed.  The outside eye I was lacking.  And more.”  He dared to reach out in an innocent gesture, his hand resting on Cas’ propped up knee.  “Cas, I can’t do this without you.  I wanna be with you more than anything. Then there’s also the fact that before there was an ‘us,’ you were _still_ my entire goddamn world.  I can’t be me without you.”

The alpha was taking a second to soak up all the meaning, all the evidence, but when he did—his hand rose to cover Dean’s.

“I understand the feeling,” he agreed.  “When we began all this, it was…shocking.  How easy it was, how we almost had acted like a mated pair from the start.  Our everyday life, our friendship, this experience was eye-opening in a way I didn’t see coming.  Dean…I don’t believe in a time before there was ‘us.’  I think we’ve always been connected, in a staggering capacity.”

Every word from Cas’ mouth, the fact he was allowing and reciprocating the physical connection, these were all positive signs.  Maybe Dean hadn’t totally shattered what they had built.  The alpha was driven as he spoke, and every line resonated with Dean, even when he hadn’t realized it was truth until it was out in the open.

“You’re right.”  There was a shyness as he met Cas’ gaze.  “We kind of blazed our own trail, colored outside the lines.  It's like you said—it was _too easy_ not to, when it felt...so natural.”  Dean pursed his lips together, already dreading the response when he asked, “Do you regret it?  Do you think...maybe our friendship was too much all along?  And there’s no going back?”

Instantly, Cas shook his head, “I want to go forward.  Only if _you_ do.”  God, ignoring the alpha's 'disclaimer’—only used to benefit a loose-cannon like Dean—Cas’ admission of forgiveness was absolutely freeing.  Naturally, it couldn't be perfect, Cas had to add, “I do have a question for you first,” and make him all anxious again.

“Okay…” Dean’s mouth felt dry, and that relief he’d previous felt?  It flitted right away, gone!  “Am I gonna hate it?”

For one of the first times, Dean let his fear be known.  He showed Cas—through tone and scent—he _didn’t_ want to be let down, Dean's hopes were sky-high and he was keeping them there.  He didn’t want to lose him at all, and if this question changed things?  Fucking hell, he didn’t want to hear it!

“I don’t think ’hate’ is the associated word.”  Cas was wearing a grin, that, at least, was a good sign.  “Are you going to fight me on this?”

Dean made a zipping motion over his lips, gesturing for Cas to continue.  Nope, he wasn’t going to fight, he wanted this to be over, for them to actually _be together—_ they'd waited long enough.  The twenty-four hour time-out Cas ordered was up.  The omega should be the one making the choice that, yes, he wanted to mate...but they were stuck in limbo.

Whatever he could do to change things?  Dean would hop right on it!

“If I couldn’t have gotten work off for this trip and you had another alpha in the wings, pretending to be your mate, how would it have gone?” he asked cryptically.

Why…

What purpose would that serve?

“Uh…” Dean made an attempt to ‘look like he was thinking’, but he knew the answer.

It wouldn’t have gone at all.  Unless, he’d told his family he’d broken up with Cas, gotten a new alpha and—

All right, Dean knew how to handle this.

He flashed Cas a cocky smirk and announced, “Well, I would’ve pranced my happy ass into your work and damn made sure you could’ve come with me.  Problem solved!”

“Dean.”  The alpha was not impressed.  “Answer the question.”

“I don’t know, dude.  I mean, obviously, I wanted you from the jump.  Whoever this imaginary alpha in the wings you’re thinkin’ about?  They could never know me like you do.  It would be a job, a trick—a painful duty.  And I couldn’t…” he trailed off, wondering if Cas even cared, but continued. “My feelings for you?  It’s all drilled into me, to the point where I couldn’t even _act_ , go through with all the PDA with this new guy.  You ever wonder why the hell I never tell you about my sexual conquests?” Dean suddenly challenged.

Taken aback, Cas admitted, “Well…you have before—”

“You mean years and friggin _years_  ago?”  Dean waited for Cas to nod, and he did—it was an undeniable fact, confirmed by Dean when he said, "It's 'cause I don't have any!  When you’re in love, it doesn’t matter if that love is returned...yer heart is still in someone else's hands.  I can’t look at someone the way I look at you.  I can’t kiss someone, even pretending for my family...because it isn’t _you_.  God knows I’ve fucked myself over by  _not actually fucking,_  and drowning in sexual frustration, because…you’re the only one I wanna be with.”

A sweep of affection whirled around Dean, puffing out from Cas and he needed that.  So bad.  Pouring your heart out and getting nothing in return would’ve been a slap in the face.  It would've killed him.  Thankfully, Cas gave him exactly what he’d needed.

Right before he was about to do something about it, to close the distance, the alpha’s words stunned him.

“I believe you.  Beyond a shadow of a doubt.  Although,” he paused to bring Dean’s hand up and kiss his knuckles, “I _also_ happen to know that for the past five years, your parents have been living with a very, very detailed and precise picture of me in their heads, as your future mate.  I surmise that may factor in, as well.”

Cas took advantage of Dean’s momentary stupor and leaned forward to kiss his forehead.  “Has it truly been that long?”

“Maybe that long for my family.  So much longer for me,” Dean heaved a sigh.  He sounded wary.  “How…do you even know?  That it _was_ you, and the whole ‘detailed and precise’ part?”

“Your mother mentioning the color of my eyes.”  Cas’ smirk was widening with mischief, relaying, “To convince them your alpha was real, you were undeniably specific and, well, let’s just say Mary knows things about me my own relatives don't.”

Dean grunted and slumped back against the headboard, unsure _what_ the hell to feel.  Instead of worry about that, he asked a question of his own.  “That's gotta help if you wanted proof, right?  But…does that make you mad I took that choice from you?  Lying about us, it a big way, sayin’ we’ve been together all this time?”

It took him no time to mull over a response.  “I assumed we’d established this.  You and I, we’ve always been together on some level.  I only hope that we’re in it for good.  That soon we can take the next step together.”

“You…mean that?”  The omega’s jaw had dropped open.  “You’ve really forgiven me?  It's on the table again?”

“It’s not on the table,” Cas began with a chuckle, and right before Dean’s heart fell, he implored, “It’s in your hands.”

The shocked whisper of “ _Holy shit_ —” was all Dean could mutter before he launched himself at the alpha.

He had permission—fuck, he finally had his chance at a happily ever after back.  His happiness always had hinged on Cas, and now he had him.

As their lips locked and moved together, the omega knew this was exactly where they were supposed to be.  There little bump in the road was there to give them time to think, to make sure both alpha and omega were in it for the long haul, for the right reasons.

Yes, it had been small, so minute in the grand scheme of things but Dean and Cas, they never argued.  Sure, they bickered like a friggin married couple, but seeing how they handled this proved they _could_ work through obstacles.  Any other time, both were synchronized with each other, body and mind.

Now, they were linked through their hearts, too.

Dean easily perched in Cas’ lap, rocking against his cock like they‘d done this a million time, even though this was still brand-new.  He skated from Cas’ lips to his jaw, and then sucked new life into the mark he’d drunkenly left on the alpha, even though it was still vibrant.  Dean was drawn in, especially when he thought about…

With Cas gasping underneath him, rutting up against his ass for friction, Dean had him in the perfect position.

“You know...I _always_ start off in your lap, but never stay here?” he purred, catching Cas’ bottom lip with his teeth and tugging just rough enough.  

While Dean continued to bait the alpha, he unbuttoned his shirt and drew away to pull not only his own, but Cas’ shirt over their heads.  Cas watched him, pupils dilating and eyes darkened by the second, his voice rumbled when he said, “Is this a request to ride my cock, Dean?”

“Right now, yeah—oh, _God_ —”  He tossed his head back with a jolt of pleasure as Cas’ hand dove down the back of his pants.  The alpha wasted no time, instantly sliding through Dean’s slick, teasing at his hole, plunging his fingers in.  

Dean grabbed a fistful of Cas’ hair, forcing his attention and regaining some ground.  “This time’s for fun.  U-us making up.  But listen, babe, because the next time you make love to me?” Dean was all fierce passion, “You’re making me yours.  Forever, alpha.”

Cas was left in awe of Dean’s intensity—his words, his proclamation, and there was no doubt he’d see it through.

A rush of newfound lust sizzling through the alpha’s blood when he agreed, “Anything.  Anything you want, my omega.”  He pushed them both over, and while Dean grunted (very unhappily), Cas teased, “How do you expect to ride me if there's clothing in the way?”

Once they were horizontal, it was a fight of speed—both tearing at each other’s clothing and their own.  Dean knew he had limited time, a small window, so the instant it was possible, he tackled Cas again.

The alpha’s surprise was evident in his wide-eyes as Dean pinned his wrists to the mattress and swung a leg over.  He took advantage of this view, of Cas’ wandering eyes constantly moving between Dean’s gaze and his cock—the omega purposefully sliding the alpha’s erection back and forth between his dripping cheeks before his cockhead caught.

Even then, with the tip of Cas’ dick lined up with his puckered hole, Dean barely let even an inch slide in.  He was basking in the moment, his alpha threatening to snap.  Cas' ground teeth, his frustrated scent, his furrowed brow.  Still, he’d given Dean permission and he couldn’t take it back.

Dean kissed one of Cas’ open palms, when it wasn’t squeezed into a fist.  A sweat had broken like a fever, the way it glistened on the alpha’s skin was gorgeous.  He...couldn't keep this up—Dean was so goddamn wet and needy, he couldn’t tease anymore if he tried.

“Fuck—!” Cas shouted out, when Dean plunged down and took his entire cock—he’d been expecting more foreplay.

Oh, but Dean was cutting out the foreplay today, and he was thrilled with Cas’ reaction.  It was fucking beautiful.

He released Cas’ wrists, letting the alpha hold him however he wanted, as Dean began to rock with vigor.  God, he loved the view from up top, wondering why he hadn’t stayed in Cas’ lap before!  Well, Dean knew the reason: he had a _really_  overzealous partner.  Dean watched every rapturous expression on his alpha’s face as he bounced up and down, taking his entire length each time.

It was right after a downward drop, the alpha’s cock fully sheathed, that Dean realized…Cas’ knot was already a small bump at the base of his dick.

Dean began to raise himself up more, bucking and grinding when they were flush, he _needed_ to see his future mate lose it.  He couldn’t help but provoke him, “Damn, Cas.  You’re really fighting a war on self-control, aren’t you?” and swiveled on his rapidly forming knot.

Panting, the alpha countered, “When y-you have a stunning omega fucking themselves on your cock, making p-promises of mating— _then_  come talk to me about self-control—”  When his knot finally slid through the gushing mess just past Dean’s rim, he gasped out, “Dean!  Let me fill you up, give you—”

“One step ahead’a you,” Dean cut in with a devilish grin and pitched forward.

Not only did he tug on Cas’ knot in a mind-blowing way, he could quench the thirst they were both dying for—one another’s kiss.

Cas’ hands shot up to tangle in Dean’s hair and cup his cheek, kissing him urgently, knot swelling inside the omega.  Dean surged back with a passion, licking inside Cas’ mouth, feeling the cum stretch him and knowing he’d soon follow Cas.  Although, he had a different promise to keep…

Whenever they were linked, when they were one, Dean wanted more each time.

Being with Cas on this intimate level, being comfortable, trusting each other to push limits every chance they got?  It wasn’t about being ‘claimed’ as much as being wanted, loved, being Cas' other half.  Dean hoped the alpha understood, because Dean could feel Cas was his missing link: he felt it with everything in him.

Recognizing the rapidly twisting curl in his stomach was his impending orgasm, Dean rocked and ground against Cas’ knot to milk him for another load.  He clutched at the pillow behind the alpha’s head, making sure he didn’t collapse down, giving them both a concussion, when he shouted out, “ _Cas_ , babe—”

Within the heady rush that soon flipped into a complete daze, Dean could feel his own pleasure as well as Cas’ pulsing inside him.  Making his alpha feel good doubled his own, and just when he began to swivel his hips again—

Cas’ hands shot out and stopped him.  Too damn breathless to question him, Dean stared quizzically down at the alpha who…

Was nothing short of joyous.  Damn, he wasn’t sure he’d _ever_ seen Cas glowing like this, and it wasn’t just because of the sex.  The alpha’s scent, his beaming smile, it was brilliant.  Luckily, he had enough air in his lungs to speak, where Dean had none.

“Next time,” Cas was adamant, pulling Dean down to his chest.  But not before stealing a kiss.  “I’m going to make you mine…you’ll make me yours.  Can’t wear ourselves out now.  Not when we’re about to watch fireworks.“

Yeah, okay—Dean smiled, because Cas’ words...they made sense.  He was also a’okay with the alpha’s vow, “And I promise, _I_  plan on pushing both of us to our limit.  You won’t have to lift a finger.  I’m going to tear you apart and build you back up.  It'll be unforgettable.”

It may have been cheesy, but still…Dean felt the words, “Every moment with you is unforgettable, Cas,” right before he began kissing his neck again.  “Still, I’ll hold you to it.”

The alpha sighed happily and held him close, wondering aloud, “How soon, my beautiful future mate?”

Dean was honest when he said, “As soon as we _can_.  I didn’t wanna do it after our…misunderstanding.  Now that it’s cleared up, I want it any time.”  He chuckled, listing off, “Here, in the morning?  Another hotel on our way home?  Back when we get into town?  Hell...”  He took in an absolutely divine breath of Cas’ scent  “Maybe the middle of the night, 'cause I won’t be able to get you out of my head.”

Dean happily hummed, Cas’ fingers carding through his hair, and asked, “Is that okay?  I mean…unless you wanna have some big celebration plans, or something.  I just want you.”

“You read my mind, Dean.”  The alpha’s voice was open, honest, and Dean was reminded how awesome it was that _this was them_.

Someone else—anyone else—may have wanted to make it a huge event.  Since, well, it _was_  a huge event.  But things were different between them, and at the end of the day, finally being together was all that really mattered.  Their future would come together seamlessly.

“God, I love you,” Dean prayed that the words and his powerful intent read like he wanted.  

Cas kissed his forehead, managing to snatch up the edge of the blanket.  “And I love you.”  After moving around to get comfortable and sharing a few more languid, sweet kisses, Cas admitted begrudgingly, “We should probably get our rest.  You know...we _will_ need it.  Whenever I’m granted the chance to make you mine, I'll take it.  I cannot wait.”

“Me either, sweetheart,” Dean heartily agreed.  “It’s gonna be a dream come true.”

“There you go again.  Reading my mind.”  Bliss and delight fueled Cas’ words.

“I know, right?  Just another reason to hop on it.  It makes sense.  Like we should’ve done it so long ago.”  There was something wistful in his tone.

Cas swore, with an impish lilt, “Don’t worry, I’m positive we’ll do an excellent job making up for all lost time.”

“That sounds like a helluva job,” Dean clucked his tongue, “I am _so_  in.”


	9. Chapter Eight

Surprisingly, Dean greeted the morning sunlight first.  He _never_ woke up first, although during this trip—Cas had been a little more lax about alarms.  

During the week, he had a very strict schedule: anytime Dean stayed over he had to deal with the shrill annoyance of his alarm clock as the alpha hopped out of bed and instantly got ready for work.  Maybe…this _had_ been somewhat of a vacation for Cas?

God knows he needed it.  Cas, among the million things Dean loved about him, was his devotion.  His devotion to Dean, his friends, and his job.  He gave 110%, even when it involved overtime and working himself to the bone and the omega had an idea…

Obviously, this trip had been time off, but it had been hectic—not a _true_ vacation.  Well, maybe for Cas it ranked up there because of his crazy-ass schedule, it _had_ felt like a break from work, but it sure as hell wasn’t like he took a damn holiday.  You know what warranted vacations?

Bonding time.  Settling in.  With a new mate.

Fuck yes!  As Dean watched Cas’ sleeping form, knowing he’d be grumpy upon waking (despite popping right out of bed, he ironically _wasn’t_ a morning person) Dean could deliver some good news?  That was awesome!

Dean wasn’t sure when Cas was due back at work, but they could schedule around it.  While he wanted nothing more to wake his alpha up with a blowjob and get this party started, he couldn’t bring himself to.

It was Cas scenting the air, knowing Dean was up and almost detecting his inner monologue, rather than being awoken by his shuffling that had the alpha reaching out and pulling him in.  The omega grinned as strong arms wrapped around him, like a warm blanket, Cas’ skin and his body temperature always seemed to run hot.

He knew that the alpha was awake, he’d turned his head away from the sun rays beaming through the window, leading Dean to inspire him or give him a reason to get out of bed…

“Tonight,” Dean began, “I wanna mate tonight.  Put some miles on Baby, drive all day and get a motel late.  Then we’ll only be a half-day from home when we drive the final stretch tomorrow.  We roll into town mated and have the rest of the day to ourselves, all comfy.  We make this trip something to remember: it's time we _finally_ got our shit together, and we make our marks on the road.  As reminders and souvenirs.”

“Mm…”  There was a happy rumble in the back of Cas’ throat as he rolled over onto Dean and began to spread kisses all over his neck, his chest, and his face.  “I like this plan.  I’m sure you’re dying to drive today, huh.”

“You know me so well—”  He meant it as a quip but it was too freaking airy.  “Baby’s gonna happy to be free’a your crazy-ass speeding and tail-gating.”

Cas protested, “It’s an expressway!  You need to get on the entrance ramps fast or else you may cause an accident.  Those fools who use the left lane and aren’t passing are a nuisance!”  His words were passionate, as revenge, he sucked a mark on Dean’s chest that had him bucking up into him.

“Dammit, Cas!  We’ve g-got a mission today!”  He tried to flee, explaining, “And we’ll shower tonight.  Somethin’ romantic before we seal the deal.  Also means we can get our asses outta here sooner!  You distraction…”

“I can’t help myself.  Knowing that I’m hours away from having you?  For the rest of my life?  It makes me want you that much more.  Needing to—”  He abruptly shook his head and acquiesced, “You’re correct.  I should be more focused on the present, and avoid jumping the gun.  I’ll try not to be preoccupied.”

Dean felt himself fill with a joyful buzz.  Even though Cas’ internal battle sucked for him, the fact he was fighting between two different ways to have _Dean,_  which one was right...well, it happened to be amazing.  Either option?  Dean won.  Oh!

He needed to tell Cas about his sure-fire win, too!

“If I give you some good news because I’m a genius, will you stop giving me blue balls?  Swear to God we’ll hit the road in the next fifteen minutes?”  Dean sharply raised an eyebrow, and Cas looked fascinated.

So much so, he gave Dean space.  Enough for a conversation, although he was still basically on top of him.  “I’m intrigued.  Do tell.”

“It begins with a question,” the omega began casually, “When are you due back into the real world?”

Cas took a second to think, and recalled, “Tuesday, I believe.”

“Woah!  Right back into the frying pan!  What are you, a workaholic?” Dean balked and knew, _hell no_ , that wasn’t gonna stand.  Not for a second!  Before he could, Cas said something that surprised him:

“I could’ve taken another day off, I suppose.  Honestly?  Think about what I do with my breaks, Dean—I use them to enjoy your company.  We always find a way to do something together.  I thought by then, you’d be sick of me.  So, logically, it would be better I went back to work.”  Cas shrugged and Dean could see his point, but he was even happier to see that Cas’ scent came alive with fondness.  “I couldn’t be happier to be wrong.  I did not see this coming.”

Dean flashed a confident smile as he reported, “Guess what!  I’ve got another remedy to all this!  Employers gotta give their workers time off for pups, ruts, heats and—what else?”  He waggled his eyebrows, waiting for the alpha to fill in the blank.

That click, the dawning flashed on Cas’ face like a spotlight.  “For mating…Dean, you _are_ a genius!”

“Yep!” he puffed up with pride.  He owed the alpha, _his alpha_ , a little more than mere bravado.  Dean extended his arms and draped them over Cas’ neck for contact.  “It’s not only a ‘Get Out of Jail Free Card,’ you know?  There’s a reason for it.  We’ve gotta stay together while our bodies acclimate to each other, as the bond settles in.  If you went to work, that would kill me.  And I don’t think I could control myself.  Then, next thing I know—I’d show up at your place and take you down with me!”

“Wow, how very Romeo and Juliet.  This sounds like a lovely introduction to how our mated life will play out,” he teased and dipped forward to leave a lingering, sweet kiss on Dean’s lips.  Neither wanted to part, but Cas retreated and reminded him, “We’re supposed to be out in fifteen.  Well, less, now.  You’re the one who’s distracting, you know.”

As Cas jumped up and began collecting his dirty clothes, Dean was slower to move.  Mostly, he wanted to watch and appreciate the finer things in life: like Cas.

How the hell could the alpha think he’d ever get tired of him?  Throw himself right back into work without a chance to catch his breath?  Even if they were ‘just friends?’  Dean would’ve given his left leg to have a chance with Cas, he got lucky before the amputation was required.

Tonight, no matter where they ended up, no matter how shoddy a motel, no matter how gaudy or fancy they decided—it was going to be amazing.  They were spur of the moment, they didn’t plan, they made it happen...it only made sense that their mating be the same.  That it reflected who they were, and their crazy, endless love for one another.

Dean hesitated when he asked, “You’ll do it, right?” finally standing up and going right to his duffle bag for a clean pair of boxers.

“Do what?”  Cas was right next to him, pulling out a t-shirt—

—When all Dean could think about was how he’d be ripping it off in a short while.  It looked damn good in the meantime.  It was snug, threadbare, it emphasized his muscles and made the omega’s mouth water.

He soon realized he was staring, shook himself off to snap out of the daze, and rephrased his question.  “You’ll ask for the time off, right?  Like…I won’t have to hound you about it?  It’s something you want and you’ll do?”

Cas cradled his cheeks and manipulated the movement so he could kiss Dean’s forehead.  He used the most assuring alpha-voice Dean hadn’t thought was possible, to say, “I’d never do anything, _anything_ , to make you uncomfortable—let alone hurt you.  And you’re right: I didn’t even consider the post-mating rituals, in addition to the doting, spoiling you, making love.  Yes, I’ll do it.  Once we begin driving, I’ll make the call.”

“Thanks, Cas.”  Dean was beaming, he leaned forward and his kiss was driven by something a little more ambitious than the previous one.

It lasted until they were panting, until they both had to fight back the impulse to grab each other, of crashing down to the bed again, and only then did they draw away.

Of course, the omega was the awkward one, still only wearing his boxers with an erection valiantly fighting against the fabric.  He cleared his throat and folded his hands over his crotch, inching over to find something easy for the long drive ahead of them, grumbling, “We need to, uh, get on the road.”

Cas was choking back a laugh as he nodded, “Agreed.  Do you need help with—”

“Hey, screw you, maybe later!”  Dean’s face was pink, grabbing a pair of well-worn jeans he couldn’t pull up all the way, because of his…problem.  “Stop staring at me!”

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll go…brush my teeth,” Cas decided quickly, but not before ducking in and grazing his teeth along Dean’s throat.  Just enough to make him shudder, luckily, his knees didn’t buckle out from under him.

“Really!?” the omega demanded loud enough for the neighbors to hear.  “Do you _ever_ want my dick to chill out?  We’re never leaving, at this rate!”

Cas called out from the bathroom, right before the sink turned on, “I love you!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Dean was trying to focus.  Like, trying really, really his best.  Still, saying the word, “Love you too, asshat,” helped.  He didn’t know why, but they helped.

Now, if only the rest of the morning would go easy on him!

It was late afternoon and the weather couldn’t be better.  With their sunglasses on, the windows down and conversation instead of the radio (or Dean’s old cassettes) they chatted about everything and nothing at the same time.

When Dean hummed out, “You ever wish we could keep going?  Just…drive?” it had been a thought said aloud, and it caught Cas’ attention.

His sincere, “I’d go anywhere with you.  Follow you anywhere,” brought one of those stupid flushes to Dean’s cheeks.

Trying to keep the situation contained, the omega chuckled and said, “You wouldn’t need to follow me, you’re stuck as my co-pilot.  There's no ditching me now, I‘m locking the doors,” and swept a quick glance over to the alpha.

His focus was already on Dean, and Cas was freaking glowing.  He would’ve known that, if their scents weren’t lost by the open windows.  Except Dean…he’d never been looked at like this.  Like he was really, honestly loved—there was no other way to describe Cas’ face, his energy.

Dean’s nose wasn’t there to steer him, and for the first time he could simply take in the way Cas saw him.  God, he was an idiot for not seeing it sooner…had it always been this obvious?

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Dean’s curiosity was getting the best of him, as he turned back to the highway.  “So you know how long it’s been for me.  Since I fell for you, and all.  But…how long has it been for, uh, you?”

Yeah, he was nervous.  What if Cas’ answer was some low number?  Like a couple months ago?  Something that made Dean look desperate, lonely, pathetic for pining after him since…always.

“I’m not sure you want to know that,” Cas said in an strangely even way.  “I don’t want to paint a different picture of who you see me as.”

He slapped the steering wheel, encouraging, “Oh, c’mon!  You can’t blow me off like that!”

Dean stole another look, noting Cas was worrying his bottom lip, contemplating.  Yep, Dean would say his interest was piqued and only amplified.  They _never_ held back from blabbing about everything, brutal honesty was kind of their thing—it was one of the reasons they’d become such good friends in the first place.  Because of Dean's sass and the alpha’s lack of filter.  What would cause Cas to hesitate?

Before he could heckle the alpha again, he beat him to the punch.  “Let’s just say it’s been longer than your five years.”

Huh.  That was _very_ good news.  Dean wanted to assure him, “Well, I was in love with you before then, that was the breaking point.  When…I couldn’t look back anymore.”

“I know.”  Dean was able to catch the barest whiff of a scent—because he was searching, seeking it out—and there was a certain nostalgia about Cas...?  
  
Dean's back and forth staring must have made him uneasy about crashing, because it prompted him.  “God, it’s been forever,” he groaned and wiped a hand down his face.

Cas picked back up where he left off.  “I don’t know what you remember, but through all the years, we’ve had so many chances, times we innocently fall asleep together, where we just…exist.  And it feels easy, like we belong.  Yet every time it seems like it’s _our time_ , when a chance falls right in our lap, you don’t remember it.  Or both of us don’t.  Or we never understand how we wound up in some situation...but the good thing is, it doesn’t matter.  We go back to the life we had before.  Normal friends _don’t do that._   Yet, we do.  I always knew you were special, Dean.”

“All of those ‘chances?’”  Dean slowly pronounced, clucking his tongue, “I was so pissed at myself.  ‘Cause I knew there are some dormant, blacked-out memory that stupid drunk-me did.  That drunk-me's a fuckin' dick, because he knew what your lips felt like, and I didn’t.  He knew if there was something there other than a dumb, random make-out.  It was in the back of my head, I could never reach it.  I’ve never wanted something so friggin bad.”

“Heh, imagine: knowing the feeling of the one you love’s lips, and it being a lost memory to _them_.  A faux pas to bring up.  Hoping they remember one day,” Cas was somber.  
  
Oh, _shit_.  Cas...had all these memories?

This was the first time Dean was hearing about this!  He was baffled—

“Wait, _what_?!” the omega demanded, “When?!  What do _you_ remember that I don‘t?  I thought we _both_ drank until we passed out, was this recurring and you never told me, or what?   _Cas_!  Give me more to work with!  You gotta!”

“Oh, we both drank until we passed out, for the most part.  Except, there were times that you lost the end of the night and I…well, I can’t tell you whether it was a dream come true or a nightmare—since I was alone in it.”  The alpha, now speaking openly and freely wasn’t bound by his previous gun-shyness.

Cas actually reached out and began absently toying and stroking the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck.  It felt good and while normally therapeutic, Dean needed more than a little touch-therapy to swallow down this news!

“How long ago?  How many times?”  He debated before asking _the question_ , not sure he wanted to know, but ended up eventually caving, “What did drunk-asshole-me do?”

“Drunk-you was _never_ an asshole, Dean.  You were…very charming.  Insanely seductive.  And…convinced that we had a future.  Each time.  I prayed you’d remember, after all—I felt the same.  It never worked out,” he sighed wistfully.  “At least it was a prelude, right?  Your promises weren’t empty.  It…took a while.”

Downright mortified, Dean tried to focus on the unsaid, he repeated again, “How long ago?”

“I think it’s been around seven years, now.”  While Cas made it sound like an estimate, this was one of those situations where he probably knew the date, down to the minute in the evening.  Dean could tell it was important.  “It was right after your break-up with Lisa—”

“Oh _God_.”  Dean paled, “Did I tell you the truth?”

“What?”  For the first time, the alpha sounded stunned, “You mean it _was_ the truth?  Not some charismatic, sweet-talking cure-all answer you gravitate towards?”

He cursed out, “Shit.  Well, tell me what I told you.  You seem to remember the night pretty vividly,” as he white-knuckled the steering wheel.

It looked like Cas was trying to come to grips with the fact that night was real.  When this whole time, he thought Dean had been bullshitting him for some reason.    
  
This particular incident was when the omega realized just how deep he was in it when it came to his feelings with Cas.  His initial reaction?  Of friggin course—he began acting out.  It made sense at the time, Dean was testing the water, and it _never_ turned out the way he’d wanted it.  Or…it had.  He just hadn’t fucking remembered!

“When I met you at the bar that night, I was coming to support you.  I knew you had broken up with Lisa, and I knew you had to be hurting from how much you spoke of her.  It drove me crazy,” Cas ground his teeth at the memory.  “I thought you were compartmentalizing.  Deflecting.  Since all I heard was how ‘bendy’ she was, and ‘dynamite in the sack.’  What you told me...it did not fit the narrative.”

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck—_ ” Dean wanted to curl up in a ball and die.  “I totally told you the truth…I know it!  I know where this is going.”

“You told me you were celebrating.  That things with you and Lisa were a smokescreen and you had to break up with her before she got too attached.”  Cas’ hand tugged a small fistful of Dean’s hair, a prelude to a possible punishment the omega knew damn well he deserved.  “You came clean with me.  That the only reason you were with her was to see if I got jealous.  To rub it in my face, see if you got a reaction.  You wished to test our bond and see if there was anything other than friendship there.  Because you wanted more.”

Dean was speechless, he’d done more than enough talking that night, he didn't know what to say now!

“I was honest, because you were.  I told you that I had to hold back, because seeing you two together made me want to rip you apart.  That every time you told me what she was sexually capable of, I wanted to say what I was capable of doing that _to you_.”  Cas laughed at the memory, “You were stunned, but I had to keep going.  Plead my case.  Make damn sure you wouldn’t pull that garbage again.  I needed you to know that I wanted you as my omega, and you’d won.  Your experiment officially yielded results.  Then… _we_ experimented.”

“Seven years ago…”  Dean couldn’t believe the number, “We could’ve been together then, we could already be mated.”  Keeping his eyes on the road, Dean refused to credit whatever devilish look was on Cas’ face, wondering, “How did we, uh,…experiment?”

“Ah, it was beautiful.”  If Cas was wistful before, now he had this longing melancholy.  “At that time, I had never felt anything like it.  Now, I can relate it to one of the last times we were together.  Back then, there weren’t any games.  It was two people realizing they weren’t alone in their love, and they crashed together.”

Now Dean’s heart was in his throat.  Part of him always knew that he’d made out with Cas, but…did this mean they’d made love and he couldn’t remember it?  That his first time _wasn’t really_ his first time?  He was _scared_.

“We did what we do best—we existed together, but openly loved each other for the entire night.  There weren’t boundaries on our words.  I could hold you, kiss you, map your body with my lips and touch.  All while we planned for our future.”  A soberness set in.  “A future that never happened.  My mistake was optimism.  You’d drank so much more than I realized before I met you at the bar.   _So_ much more.  It was a punch to the gut when you didn’t recall anything beyond our meet up.  Yet we moved on.  We always did.”

“Hey…I’m right here.  You got me,” Dean tried to push through this barrier, the lost time, and the past memories Cas had been sucked into.  Cas looked like he was viscerally _reliving_ them, that was the last thing Dean wanted!  “I’m yours forever.  I ain’t going nowhere, babe.”  

An idea struck the omega and he grinned.  “Wanna drive for another hour and find a place to stop?  Make us real?  Official?”

“Wait.  So soon?”  He was taken aback, but the jarring suggestion worked damn well to bring him back to the present.  Cas took note of the clock, it was barely after seven.  “Are you sure about stopping now?  We still have daylight and time, we can make up—”

“I’m sure about _us_.   _We're_ what’s important, Cas.”  Dean reached out and grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together.  “See the difference?”

Finally, the smile returned to the alpha's face when he agreed, “Of course; choice over circumstance.  I’ll always choose you.”

Dean squeezed their hands, feeling lighter again.  “There ya go!  We'll be each other‘s before the night is done.”

Both of them needed a moment to catch up, to sort things in their heads. To understand the ramifications of what happened back then, all those years ago—Cas had an idea.

Picking up from an early conversation, he asked, “Would you want to keep driving?  Relocate?”  He pecked a kiss on Dean's knuckles.  “Start fresh from the ground up?”

“Huh…it sounds like fun, doesn't it…”

Dean considered it, like, really mulled over the concept.  Maybe Cas had thought of it in passing, but the omega on the other hand…maybe he liked the idea.

“I mean, what’s really keeping us on the east coast?  The best thing about Jersey, is that I met you there.  If I get to take you with me, I’m not leaving much else behind,” the omega was brainstorming aloud, and the idea was becoming more and more appealing.  “You and me, we happened really fast.  It was a long time coming, and what if this is, too?  We’re gonna live together, get rid of one—or both—of our places for a new home.  Why does it have to be in Jersey?”

“I can read your scent,” Cas teased and leaned in to brush a sweet kiss on the omega’s cheek.  “You’re loving this.  You’re right, what’s keeping us there?  Both of our jobs, we can get transfers.  We can sublease our places to get out early.  I think a new beginning is a two-week’s notice away.”

Dean tried his hardest not to bounce up and down in the seat, he was excited!  His giddy admission of, “I’ve needed this. All of this.  You, a new life, just a change.  We’re gonna be so fuckin’ happy, Cas.  Any ideas where you wanna move to?” it was making him want to get off the highway faster.  He wanted his mate to be his mate, like, now.

Dean watched the signs for the exits fly by, gauging if they were coming up on a span of land with nothing but fields for a hundred miles and if he should get off the turnpike now.  He wanted to make sure they had some food joints nearby, him and Cas would need their energy, and filling a mini-fridge full of take-out sounded like a good way to plan out the night…

“Well, we just visited the west coast,” Cas joined in on his brainstorming, “I do enjoy the bay area.  Or San Diego is beautiful.  I’m gravitating towards the water, but there are lakes—like in Chicago. I say we pull out a map, I’ll blindfold you, you throw a dart and that’s where we go.”

The alpha smirked wildly as he amended, “That is, _after_ I put the blindfold back on and have my way with you.”

“Gotta say, I like where yer head is at.  Keep those dirty thoughts right there, okay?”  He flipped on his turn signal, surprising Cas once more, with his ever-changing timetable.  “Tonight’s our time.”

Cas found the words he'd been searching for.  He could finally sum up Dean on this road trip home: “You’re incredible.”

Dean shot him a wink, as he merged onto a business road.  “Right back at you, alpha.”

“What about this one?” Dean pointed to what felt like the hundredth hotel, slowing down to a speed meant for turning, but Cas dismissed it again with a laugh.

“No, not that one either.”

They’d been driving on a road parallel to the highway, there was too much anticipation to go much longer.  They’d made great time, they were in need of a reward and lucky for them?  The reward they were patiently (more or less) waiting to receive was each other.

If only the alpha could make up his friggin mind about the motel now!

“Seriously?”  Dean groaned and pressed his foot back down on the gas, “What was wrong with that one?  So help me, we’re gonna mate in Baby, if you keep putting this off!”

“I’m not putting it off,” the alpha reminded him, extending his arm and ruffling Dean’s hair.  Yeah, he shook his head because, dammit, he wanted to stop!  He wanted his long-awaited dream to come true, and—

Cas explained, “None of these are sketchy enough.”

“Wha—?”  Dean whipped around, actively stopping himself from slamming on the breaks.  “Are you trying to tell me that all these places we’ve passed…they’re too _nice_ for you?”

“Precisely.”  Cas dove in and kissed Dean on the cheek.  “We’re still on an adventure.  If we look for the nicest place to mate, we’ll undoubtedly be let down.  Wondering if we’d only continued driving, we may have found something even better.  Or we regret it so much, we'll wish we’d waited for one of our beds at home.  If we aim high, we risk disappointment.  If we aim low…”

“We risk bedbugs,” Dean cut in with grumble.

“Well, not _that_ low.”  The alpha rolled his eyes.  “Sanitary, but shady.”

“Huh…”  Dean mused over the thought, and that’s when he realized…  “Dammit, Cas.  I love the way your big, beautiful brain works.  Okay, _now_ I’m in the game!”  He rolled his shoulders as another stretch of motels came up on the left, “Let’s check out these suckers!”

Cas watched Dean with affection, surprise evident in his scent.  As if Dean knew what Cas was up to, he wouldn’t go through with it.  Sure, another may question what the fuck the alpha was thinking—but he was right.

Why set your sights high and risk disappointment when you could have fun and find the cheapest, gaudy themed, pay-by-the-hour, weird-ass motel: for the memories?

 _That_ was who they were.  They weren’t about to roll up to a Presidential Suite to mate.

“ _Oh my God_ , Cas—!”

“Yes,” he instantly agreed, following where the omega‘s finger had shot.  “That’s the one. _That’s_ our motel for the night.”

They shared a wild grin at the ‘Vacancy’ sign, Dean swung the car into the parking lot.  Both were hoping and crossing their fingers that it was as tacky inside as it was from the outside.  With duffle bags in one hand, they took the other's free hand, and locked up Baby.

“Here we go!” Dean announced as they walked towards the manager’s office.  “Hell yes.”

Opening the front door, Cas couldn’t help but stop, commenting in awe, “They _really_ love pink…”

“At least they committed.”  The omega shrugged.  “Now, commitment is our deal.”  When Cas approached the desk, Dean swatted him and hissed in a lower whisper, “ _Hey_ , hey, hey—ask them if they have bedbugs!”


	10. Chapter Nine

It was like Valentine’s Day puked in the room.  Everything was shaped like a heart, everything was slathered in shades of pink and purple—hues of red were rare.  Hell, even the bed was heart-shaped!  The odd thing was that the lights were already on, but Dean found another switch still down.

Naturally curious, Dean flipped it and his jaw dropped in glee—the friggin heart-bed _rotated_!

“Holy shit!  I feel like I’m in a porno and I _love it_!” the omega sprinted through the door and jumped onto spinning mattress.  After the initial disorientation, he sat up, crossing his legs and took in all the sights with his 360-view.  “Wow.  Is that… _glitter?_ ”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, many things...sparkle.”  Cas laughed aloud.  “It does appear to be covering the floor.  I don’t know if it’s a part of the charming décor and atmosphere, or—like you noted—this is a filming set or perhaps more logically; a common place used by sex workers.  One thing’s for sure—”

“No bangin’ on the floor!  Glitter in strange places _never_ comes out,” Dean’s gruff tone was most definitely spoken from experience.  He cast an upward glance and declared with glee, “Mirrors!  Hey, can you stop this ride?  I’m, uh, getting dizzy…”

Castiel flipped the switch and set their belongings high on a table.  The newly discovered mirrors on the ceilings exposed exactly how much of the carpet…shimmered.  It was impressive—deliberate—part of the 'experience,' spanning every inch of the flooring.

Did they vacuum in-between guest, and then freshly sprinkle a new layer?  The amount was far too great, too uniformed and intentional for one accidental spill.

The alpha kicked off his shoes and squeezed in next to Dean on the heart-shaped bed.  He looked up at their reflection, engaging the omega through the mirror.  “Did you ever think we’d wind up here?”

Dean pressed in closer, tangling their legs together.  “ _Here_ , here?  I dunno where here is…”  He rolled over and began to kiss the hinge of Cas’ jaw.  “But I love it.”

Warmth ran freely through the alpha’s body, decidedly pleased with this establishment, since he could watch every second of Dean slowly tugging his clothes off.  Cas sat up, his hands skated across the muscled abdomen and flank of his omega and gathered their clothes.

Cas was grinning when he whispered the quiet reminder, “Beware of the glitter—” piling them in the corner.

Dean snorted and nipped Cas’ shoulder, complaining, “This is the dickish version of ‘The Floor is Lava…’”

“I’ve already figured it out.”  Cas ripped his shirt away sooner than Dean expected, coaxing a gasp from him.  He wadded up the shirt with the rest of the heap and chucked it over to the corner where—

—Cas had proactively unfolded and spread out a clean blanket to save their belongings.  

He must have done it when Dean’s dumbass had been riding the merry-go-round of a bed and checking out the scenery.  Sneaky, beautiful, genius bastard.

The sheet spanned enough surface area and it was just close enough, that when they ripped and tore at each other’s clothes, there was a damn good landing strip.  With no worries, nothing would ruin the foreplay, they were invisible!

The omega's rumbled, “You’ve got a plan for everything, don’t ya?” was all Cas got before his strike.

Dean pounced—there was nothing submissive or ‘omega’ about his attack.  

He fought like hell, throwing elbows, knocking knees, doing anything and everything he could to get his future mate naked ASAP.  He wanted to see Cas rolling with him on these garish, slippery satin sheets.  Dean wanted to see how the flush of Cas’ body, fucking into his own, would compare and contrast with all the other pink tones in the room.  
  
Would his alpha’s flushed, sweating body clash or blend right in?

More than _anything_ , Dean wanted—

“Wanna be yours,” he moaned, ripping past the zipper and hauling the alpha’s jeans away.  “Been waiting so long—”

“You have, you’ve been so good, Dean,” Cas praised him, tearing away the last scraps of fabric still clinging to the omega.  He traced over the previous mark he’d left, eyes hungry with desire.  “I know exactly where I’m gonna leave my mark—”  Cas easily flipped Dean over, and pinned him to the bed.  “Do you know where you’re going to claim me, omega?”

Even with the air punched out of his lungs, it'd never slowed Dean down in the past, along with the playful defiance when watching Cas above him.  Dean struggled, propped up by his elbows, kissing Cas with fiery intent and nodded.  When they broke apart, briefly, Dean was able to say, “Hell yeah, gonna finish what I started right…here…”

His tongue flicked out, and to Cas it felt like a scorching flame, breathing new red-hot life into the mark Dean had previously left on his skin.

The alpha’s chuckle was lust-hoarse and he cuffed Dean’s chin.  “You have got to be kidding.”  He didn’t feel bad when Dean’s eyes widened, nerves barely having any time to do damage, because what he had to say was better.  “That is precisely what _I_ had in mind.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, scent instantly expelling relief while he narrowed his eyes into glare that could cut.  “You dick.  Getting me worked up and—”

“It’s astounding, isn’t it?”  Cas knew exactly how to melt his dangerous expression, caging the omega underneath him, sliding his hand between Dean’s legs to feel his slick.  “We both, in our own ways, came to the same conclusion.”

“Y-Yeah... _fuck—_ we should really thank Sam for graduating, huh?”  The wise-cracks were all Dean could manage before he began to fall apart under Cas’ steady hand, “We should send a c-card, tell ‘im you wouldn’t be claiming me now if it weren’t f-for his party.  Make it all— _oh, God—_ a-all kinds'a explicit, gross, awkward and embarrassing.”  
  
He completely abandoned that train of thought, his teeth ground together, “ _Dammit, Cas—_ ”

The alpha relished every twist and squirm, every beautiful moment of Dean battling to spread his legs while he was boxed in, giving the alpha more pleasure than he’d admit.  The way Dean tried to sink down on his fingers but wouldn't beg quite yet because of his own turmoil.  
  
Dean let him know, too.  Loudly, through curses and complaints, thrashing and whimpering.

Cas planned to work him up until he couldn’t take it.  God, the show was amazing, and he smoothly explained, “I love watching you like this.  I love everything about you, Dean.  Even your stubborn pride.  If you weren’t the determined, optimistic, bold omega you were, you could’ve caved.  You could’ve told your family the truth, or a version, that you didn’t have an alpha—yet, you refused.”

“This weekend was everything.  If I didn’t come along—” Cas moaned out as Dean finally retaliated, both digging his nails into the alpha’s back and wrapping a hand around his cock.  He swore under his breath, taking his time to revel in the touch, gain back his senses.  His words were admittedly choked—

“If-if this weekend didn’t happen, we may never have worked up the courage.  Thought our friendship was t-too important, kept putting it first.  These fading marks are from the weekend we became r-real: they should be preserved.”  Cas rushed out the last part, but just as he did so—Dean’s touch slowed down and softened.

With a wide, earnest gaze, he quickly, wholeheartedly agreed.  “Same reason we wanted to mate on the road, for the memory—like a souvenir, right?" Dean recalled, and his previous frustration had vanished, replaced by reverence.  "It... _never_ happens.  Gettin’ to hold onto something, a physical reminder, from the time _best_ part’a your life.”

“Exactly,” Cas agreed and soon, his demeanor changed too—his previously torturous teasing transformed into something equally intense, but loving.  “We get to keep our proof, a piece of our history, from the greatest turning point.  The exact weekend our lives changed.”

Dean quirked a smile.  “Fuck, yeah.  So,” he tilted his chin lightly and inquired, “you think we’ll ever get to it?  Like, anytime tonight?  Before our marks are totally gone and— _ow_!”

The thrown gauntlet snapped the alpha back into the moment.  He instantly shifted his weight accordingly, to spread Dean’s legs and hiked them both up the bed.  And, quite obviously, Dean was thrilled grabbing wildly at Cas’ hips, trying to pull him in, dying for that connection—both physical and eternal—now that the challenge was out in the open.

The only issue?  Was the _fucking bed_.

They were sliding against the sheets, and even attempting to gain foothold too close to the edge was dangerous.  Cas made an effort to gauge how far from the v-shaped bottom of the damn heart would be deemed ' _safe'_ —    
  
The last thing they needed—while in the middle of _freaking mating,_ not even regular sex! _—_ was for one of them to go flying over the edge.  Worse, if they were knotted and crashed down together!

It was like the target-market for novelty furniture completely excluded the possibility of two full-grown men.

Dean finally realized a few second later what Cas was doing, and he busted out laughing.

This time, he was on the receiving end of a scowl, followed by a raised eyebrow.  “Do you find something funny?”

“N-no, I-I,” he dissolved into giggles again.  “I think this is awesome—!”

To say Cas was confused, was an understatement,  “Pardon me?”

“You were right.  This is _so_ us.”  The omega reached up, his palms assertive against Cas' cheeks before could huff and puff too much.  “Do you trust me?”

There was a small glance hesitation—wondering what Dean was up to—before he finally released the built-up tension through his spine and agreed.  “Of course, I do.”

“All right, great.”  Dean kissed away every last bit of negativity before looking up, over Cas’ shoulder.  “Okay, let’s pivot all the way to the right.  Keep coming, yep…up a little.”  As the alpha followed the directions, he soon realized Dean was using the mirrors on the ceiling as a bird’s eye view.  He could see the whole picture and position them better than Castiel could've ever hoped to.

“Good, good,” the omega encouraged, “literally, just _three_ more _inches_ should be dandy, and—oh God— _Cas—!_ ”

Yes.  He did trust Dean.  So what was the point of waiting any longer?

They’d both been counting down for this moment since they hit the road, they’d been going crazy since they began searching for hotels, they had plans, their potential crisis had been averted and Cas couldn’t stop himself.

Dean’s gut reaction wasn’t to recover from the abrupt slam of Cas’ hips.  No, now that they were connected, Dean's instinct was to glue their mouths together.  It was to kiss the hell out of Cas and hold him as close as his arms could pull.

Both alpha and omega knew that from the moment they became one, on this night, they were walking away changed.  They’d never be alone, without each other, again.

The scents were intoxicating, formidable enough to sink into the walls of this room and linger.  That realization sprung curiosity—what would their own new scents be like—once the other changed them, was a _part_ of them?

Those kinds of concepts and idea made them desperate and enthralled.  Made them fearless and motivated, it created the urgency of coming together that much more crucial.

Their bodies synced up and moved together flawlessly, as though they’d made love a _million_ times.  Except the way they were hungry to know and to please each other, feeling overwhelmed themselves—it made it feel like the _first_ time.  Dean and Castiel were able to make sense out of any contradiction, even about them.

When Dean pulled away to suck air back into his lungs, he wasn't overpowered by their scents and sensation alone.  One of the greatest aphrodisiacs came from watching Cas, as he fucked Dean for all he was worth, in the reflection of the overhead mirror.

God, it was stunning  _and_ he had his answer: about Cas comparing and contrasting within their surrounding spectrum of pink.  The bloom of fuchsia was cross-hatched lines down the alpha's back from _Dean’s_ nails.  Jesus, the way he moved, pounding into Dean, rocking the _entire_ goddamn _bed—_

Another time, another round, the omega would be absolutely be thrilled to gape—except, right now...was different.  Hell no, Dean was too far gone, he was on cloud nine in anticipation and this?   _Fuck_ , this view was the nail in the coffin!

“Cas!  Holy shit, can’t hold out—” Dean forced the words out, he _had to_ , he—

The rhythm of their bodies slowed enough for Cas to face him, to brush the matted hair away from Dean’s forehead, to look him in the eyes with a brilliant smile.  “You’ve already chosen where, right?”  And _that_ was his permission.

The last chance to turn back was gone, and instead of feeling trepidation...the feeling was beyond words, everything had fallen into place.

Whirling around inside this hurricane of love and torrid emotions, Cas offered his neck.  Dean thought his momentum and untamed urgency would knock him off track but instead...it drove him into a calm stillness in the eye of the storm.

That split-second of ’this is happening, I’m in control’ was what he needed and _he took_.  Dean grabbed hold of a fantasy, a dream, a wish that never lost its voice in the back of his head, what had inspired his heart for so long.  The years and years of longing, infatuation and genuine, pure-hearted love led up to this—to the moment Dean _finally took_ and his teeth pieced skin—

The hurricane swept him up and whipped him around at a neck-break speed, more violently than before.

Except, it wasn’t only violent, it was disorientating.  Dizzying.  Soon, there was a blinding rush of mind-numbing bliss.  
  
The way Dean's senses tried to make sense of this—of what was happening—his clarity panned in and out of focus.  When he tried to use his brain, he found it was pointless—all he needed to do was _feel_.  Dammit, he should've known that from the start!  
  
Dean felt a hyper-awareness of everything Cas gaining steam, and an overflow of emotions flooding from his core.

Then everything just…stopped.

Dean slowly regained his equilibrium and became aware of his surroundings, one by one.  He didn't push—hell, he couldn't if he tried—Dean allowed them to return naturally.

The rise and fall of chests, moving together.  Of gliding hands against wet, slick, and warm sweating skin.  Useless muscles and happy exhaustion.  Complete and utter contentment.  His…neck.

Tender and aching.

God, it felt incredible.

With an extended sigh of relief, one of those gliding hands paused on his back and swooped under his chin.  His focus was drawn towards the most a-fucking-mazing pair of sparkling blue eyes...Dean wanted to stay here.  Get lost here.

You know, until the flash of red _finally_ caught his stupid attention—dammit, he was acting high as a kite!  …then he wanted to get lost in _that new sight_.  Woah.

“It’s remarkable, isn’t it?”  Cas spoke with the same awe Dean felt.  “I thought I’d be prepared.  I’d given myself a comprehensive, overkill pep-talk.  No matter how it went, I’d be ready and able to…heh, well, be the alpha _you_ needed if it was rigorous.  Turns out, I performed poorly.”

The omega couldn’t help it, his concentration flitting between the breathtaking, fresh claim and his equally breathtaking alpha.  Dean was able to say with certainty, “Sometimes you think too much.  And your performance?  Hah, you’ll _never_ have to doubt, babe.”

With a single kiss to Cas’ lips, Dean wrangled and funneled his undivided attention to his mate—yes, _mate—_ and said, “I dunno what was comprehensive 'bout this.  All I needed was you with me.  That’s what I got, right?”

Cas quirked a grin and readily agreed, “You certainly did,” and that grin widened when he hummed, “I already know this will turn into an ongoing problem.  You having your way.”

Dean had an excellent, yes—flawless _and_ excellent—comeback poised on his lips.  

That was, until Cas and his goddamnmotherfucking alpha side decided to dive in and latch his mouth onto Dean’s tender, freshly claimed and oh-so-sensitive throat.

It all went to hell after that.  Yeah, Dean couldn’t speak.  He could kind of half-curse.  There were _tons_ of noises coming out of him, ones he had never made (or didn't know he _could make_ ) until now—and holy shit!    
  
Here they were!  They actually made it.    
  
So, okay, the omega wouldn’t complain about anything Cas did, no matter how awkward Dean felt.  At his core, there was...peace.  On the outside, Dean was humming happy noises, with a sexy side of moans, and squeaking in an attempt to duck away from embarrassment.

Because…Cas was doting.  He was sweet, loving, and spent every second focused on the mark and his duty to help it heal properly.  That his omega would be well taken care of.  
  
And…later on, he actually let Dean return the favor, when they weren’t knotted together any longer.  In between whispered “I love you”s and the most tender afterglow.  
  
Finally!  Dean could give something to Cas—something _the alpha_ hadnever done, never had, never experienced before.  It was an awesome feeling of accomplishment, giving Cas the best ‘first’ he could—God, he was worth it.  
  


The room ended up being even more hilarious once they left the bed (that, in itself was difficult) and explored en route to the shower.

While hesitant to plant their bare feet on the floor, it turned out the glitter was shellacked down.  Their fear was nothing more than a glitzy, extravagant paint job.

That’s when Dean’s harassment began.  His jabs about Cas’ being squeamish about ’a little dazzle,’ and ’maybe they could’ve mated sooner, if he wasn’t digging through the cabinets, looking for that sheet!’

Dean ate his words when he stumbled on a pile of _real_ glitter.

It was easy to overlook because of the motel theme, and Cas smugly commented, “If they’re not cleaning the floors, I doubt they're concerned about bedbugs,” to get under his mate’s skin.

At the time, the alpha felt like he’d won.  After Dean spent an additional twenty minutes in the shower alone, _demanding_ Cas scan every fucking inch of their sheets—or else he refused to get out—it did _not_ feel like a true victory.

Dean's extended shower made sense, their focus was on each other and they did a half-assed job of cleaning up when they were  _together_.  This place created more obstacles.

The ceiling mirrors were a blessing, and it turned out: part of the theme inside the motel room.  The bathroom walls were a patch-work of mirrors in place of tiles: some glossed over with the pink and purple color scheme, others fogged, most were crystal clear—which proved to be a distraction.  That was just the tip of the iceberg.

These newly mated endorphins rocking their systems brought out a... _unique_ problem.  They could not keep their hands to themselves.  That, combined with _years_  spent fighting an internal battle, the fact they _could_ make contact, they had permission to _be together_ , however and whenever they wanted—  
  
Well...it made them unable to stop.

Just like in the shower.

While the bathroom walls alternated different versions of the strategically placed mirror cut-outs, the _entire stall_ was fitted with panels of a fogged reflective surface.  More than enough to see the way their bodies pressed together from every angle.

The only ‘real’ washing they accomplished was Dean scrubbing the glitter from his feet, and taking turns teasing each other with a bar of soap.  Cas figured it wouldn’t matter anyway, they were just beginning—this run was a chance to explore the room.  
  
Still...he should have fucking known the bedbug comment would’ve made his mate squeamish…

Cas _also_ knew no matter how much the omega denied it, how rugged and ‘manly’ he claimed to be—there was something high-maintenance about his cleanliness.  Plus, Dean had a vehement aversion to germs.  If Cas didn't give him the 'all clear,' the omega would gladly wait it out, letting the water run ice-cold, his fingers prune, all for the sake of being stubborn.  
  
So Cas did just that, shouting into the bathroom, "I didn't find anything with four or six legs!" hoping to get his mate back.  
  
Before he retracted, Dean called out, "What about eight?!"  
  
Cas rolled his eyes before responding.  "Only two!  I've checked high and low.  ...If wrap up in five minutes or less, I'll make it worth your while," he finished on a sultry note.  
  
The silence that followed was promising.  
  
Even the small things were endearing, Cas could go on for days about the omega's quirks.  Those were the highlights, making Dean, Dean.  It was absolute insanity, how in love Cas was.

And here they were.

Newly mated.  At a sleazy motel, where the bed's shape was a friggin hazard and the slippery sheets led the way for either to tumble off and crack their heads open.  Where the walls didn’t just talk, they made them move and act—bringing them closer.  Where the AC Unit was a broken piece of shit, because why bother—people never spent more than a few hours here.

It was also a place where Castiel’s heart raced: where Dean decided to be a little shit, proudly strutting out in a small, hot pink hand towels.  Fuck, it barely covered _anything,_ making the alpha‘s fingers itch to rip it away.    
  
There _had_ been another, fresh towel in there—albeit, covered in a god-awful artsy attempt to fade and collage neon outlines of hearts.  
  
Dean closed in, wiggling his eyebrows, "Did you time me?  Less than five, right?"  
  
"You're correct."  He waved the omega forward, beckoning him right back to bed.

The instant Dean was in range was the instant Cas knew he was correct about the extended shower. _Right_ before he ripped away that pathetic excuse for modesty.

Dean’s hair smelled like roses and lavender.

When Cas had been sucking Dean’s earlobe between his teeth, under the spray of the shower, he’d been watching his mate’s back arch against the reflective wall—something had blocked his view.  It had been the tray hosting the shampoo and conditioner: they were scented rose and lavender.  At the pace they were going, considering Dean's habits and preferences, Cas would have to embrace his role as Dean's alpha quickly and provide, no matter how... _odd_ his needs.  
  
Dean had _other_ needs, as Cas swung him around, his still-damp skin clinging to the new bedding when he landed.  "Tell me, Dean.  What delicious ideas played through your mind when you hurried back to me?"  He used Dean's shoulders as leverage: holding himself up while restraining Dean until he received a response.  
  
And the omega looked...completely enamored.  "Oh, I think you're _really_ gonna like this one..."  
  
Going by Dean's scent—Cas already did.

Pillow talk eventually led Cas to the frantic discovery he had been too preoccupied to call his boss.  They _had_ made a hasty exit from the highway a hearts-over-head moment to mate.  One awkwardly late-night conversation later, and the pair was officially on an extended mated-vacation—they needed it.

This brand new free-form way of life was working for them, they thrived inside it, no longer chained down to their structured work environment and precise scheduling.  The alpha and omega continued on: living heart-over-head for as long as they could.

They didn’t want to leave each other’s side, opting to spend another night in the motel.  It was easier than relocating.

Cas made the dash to the front desk to pay for another night while Dean was sleeping.  
  
The man working had blinked dumbly, did a double-take, asking Cas to repeat himself _multiple times_.  
  
It was obvious, they were on track for the record books as the longest-staying guests in their motel history.  It was funny, since they'd picked this place for its flaws and...fearlessness.  

Cas must have made an impression on the man at the front desk.  Or he must have been over the moon about their occupancy, because early the next morning, they awoke to a knock at the door.

After an amazing night of marathon sex, both were sore and sluggish to get up.  Since Dean was the closest, he made his way over, dragging the sheet with him and his slight limp.

He opened the door to find the person had vanished.  In their place was a note, a giant tray with a covered dish—the smell of food wafting out.  He snorted when he picked up the tray, flashing the paper the around.

Dean dramatically read, “’We hope your stay is satisfactory!  Please enjoy this complimentary breakfast!’  Dear Lord, they didn't even try to spell ‘complimentary’ right.”  He flopped back down, debating whether to turn on the bedside light or open the blackout privacy curtains.  “Did you know they offered breakfast here?”

“I’m _positive_ they do not.”  Cas was quizzical, sleepy and confused as he sniffed the air, “Is that…?”

When Dean grabbed the handle and popped open the top, neither was shocked at what they found, but they still shared a glance before laughing.

“Are you hungry, Cas?” Dean’s expression was wicked and enthused as he snatched up the wrapper, “We’ve got enough McDonald’s, here, to give us both heart-attacks!”

It was true.  Once the top was removed, a _landslide_ of wrapped breakfast sandwiches, pancakes, hash-browns and ketchup packets began _spilling_ out.

Cas began digging through the sheets, mumbling, “I believe I just lost a McMuffin in here—” and Dean’s jaw dropped, demanding, “Are you for real?” the alpha trying to spread out the overly lush and fluffed comforter (he was still half-asleep, okay?) defending, “Why would I lie about that—?”

The omega groaned and moved the tray to the table, joining in the hunt.  “You know, those are piping hot…and I could use the carbs…” Dean was under the sheets one minute, and the next time Cas glanced up, he was casually resting on his side, cheeks stuffed full, sandwich half gone.

“ _Dean_ —”

“Found it!” he announced, he was on the last two bites.  “You should have one, this is awesome!  Hey, do you think this is an apology for last night?”

It very well could’ve been a combination of the two.

Shortly after four am, when they'd finally fallen asleep from pure exhaustion—the motel experienced a power surge.  Instead of resetting clocks, or at worse—sorting out some electronics without a surge protector, their room had a...much different response.

The bed started spinning.

It wasn’t the same speed as when Dean first flipped that switch.  As it turned out, the beds were programmed to a certain rotation, and both Dean and Cas felt that jolt of electricity, the power surge, the minute it happened: the system had _restarted_.

It felt like the floor fell out from under them in the pitch-black of the room!

Going from being dead-to-the-world asleep to riding Satan's merry-go-round—it was a helluva way to wake up.  
  
Dean was luckily in the center  _and_ the first to stir.  Cas was nothing but dead fucking weight on the outer edge.  The way they were holding each other... _shit_ , Cas was slowly pulling Dean further and further out—bound to spiral who knows _where_ on the floor or crashing into a wall!  The slow-motion in the pitch-black room was a nightmare on its own.

Dean had slapped his mate a hundred times, trying to wake him up!  The damn alpha slept like a log.  It wasn't until they were both right up on the edge of being slingshotted—

And when Cas _finally_ joined the land of the living?    
  
He toppled right the fuck off.  All by himself—nothing to do with the spinning bed—only his grace.  And he took Dean with him.

Of course, they called the front desk.  When no one answered, they peeked out into the hallway to see a small handful of people out and about.  All were shouting and complaining, which confirmed to the couple this _was_ a freak accident.  

That was how they found out about the different settings on the demon-possessed bed, digging around and finding the manual themselves.  Who knew how long it would be before the manager got to them?  
  
Dean and Cas agreed—yeah, they were tired, _but_ they could figure out simple programming.  They prided themselves on being handy and fixing it would be easier, than the wait-list.  
  
They needed sleep on a stationary bed, this was their _honeymoon_ , dammit, and they weren’t looking for this kind of roller coaster...

Neither were hurt in the tumble.  Dean knocked his knee, _again_ , that thing was never gonna heal!  And maybe...Cas’ ego was bruised, so they went back to bed.  
  
It didn’t appear to affect either of them this morning, Dean avidly digging around the platter to see what other goodies were in here for them.

At least now, Cas knew if he ever needed to beg forgiveness?  He could do it with McDonald’s breakfast—the omega content to shrug off the incident and return to the pile to grab another sandwich.

The entire oddity and spontaneity of their mating was what made it perfect.

The hours they spent making love on that ridiculous heart-shaped bed would never be forgotten.  When they’d literally given everything they could give to the other, all while trying to hold their balance to keeping from tipping over the curved top.

Cas, overloaded, his brain and body shorting out, his eyes unable to decide if he was more taken by the image of Dean riding him up close, or his omega writhing from the crisp mirrors overhead.  Dean becoming so entangled in the oversize bed sheet seeking out Cas’ warmth in the middle of the night that he literally had to be dug out and freed.

That time the alpha's frustration nearly drove him through the roof, trying to explain their location to the delivery guy for dinner.  Apparently, people _never_ delivered food to the joint, and Dean helpfully (and vulgarly) intercepting the phone call, cleverly choosing all the right words to make Chinese happen.

Or the time they’d been laying together, wrapped around each other and discussing the future—when the _painfully_ faked moan of a call-girl began amping up next door.

All it took was a shared, devilish smirk for the competition to begin.

To make an example of what _real_ ecstasy sounded like.  How much _louder_ Dean’s shouts of pleasure could be, to drown out those pitifully feigned.

It was an adventure to cap off an adventure.

When they eventually said goodbye to the motel and hopped into the Impala, it felt too soon.

While Cas was normally the voice of reason, saying all the right words—about the drive home, how much time they still had together before going back to the ‘real world,’ how once they parked they could go right back to bed—he too was already feeling Dean’s wanderlust.

For the place they’d talked about together—a new, better place for only them—that didn’t exist yet.

Everything back in New Jersey was theirs.  As  _individuals_.

Everything at Stanford, on the highway, in cheap motels belonged to them: _together_.

Neither knew if it were labels, feelings, or something intangible just outside their grasp.

For now, it was manageable because they were able to stay side-by-side until the clock ran out.

Maybe once that was over, when they weren’t living in the moment and fell back into their old lives (with the added bonus of a mate to come home to) they could plot what came next.    
  
They sure as hell weren’t going to waste any of their finite time together coming up with a five-year plan.  Dean and Cas were acutely aware of time _and_ how fast it could get away from you if you didn't act: they knew from personal experience.  It was a mistake they'd never make again.

Those words...they lingered—maybe what they needed  _was_ only a two-weeks notice away?    
  
But who would be the one to put those thoughts into actions this time?


	11. Chapter Ten

Time got away from them.  It wasn’t either Dean nor Cas’ fault, but normally when couples mated their employers had more time to plan around their absences.  A warning.  Or even a _small_ inkling.  
  
Dean and Cas’ mating came out of nowhere.

They’d fallen off the radar, and because of that: work piled up.

Both alpha and omega, habitually took matters (and therefore; the blame) into their own hands.  It wasn’t guilt that extended their nine-to-fives, it was responsibility.  The positive reminder was they had the added comfort knowing the other wasn’t going anywhere.

What they had now wasn’t a courting scenario.  Issues didn’t arise from ‘blowing off a date,’ when a normal relationship may crumble.

Their love was so fucking real, their commitment undeniable, and the understanding of one another’s lives.  It was a given that they'd come home to each other every night.  Cas didn’t have to explain why he was running late, Dean already knew it was because his co-worker (who the alpha continuously complained about) had taken a long lunch.  When Dean was about to have a meltdown—Cas could talk him back from the edge in two sentences or less.

They didn’t need to ’work the bugs out,’ they’d figured out how long ago.

One evening, when Dean managed to leave work on time, he rushed back to his house right after texting Cas he’d be ready for dinner soon.

Except, when he walked inside his nose perked up—he could already tell his mate was here—the scent fresh.

Tonight, they hadn’t made official plans, work was so unpredictable.  The couple currently ping-ponged between houses on a day-to-day basis.  Of course, Cas had a key, but it was a friggin _miracle_ for them to be out at the same time!

Dean tried to sniff out a trail, but the alpha’s scent was everywhere.  Why was he even trying to be sneaky?  He thought _screw it_ and called out from the living room, “Cas!  I swear to God, if you jump out at me—”

“Oh.  You’re earlier than I thought.”  The alpha popped out from around the corner, quickly advancing to give his mate a welcome-home kiss.  “I just finished.  Come with me.”

Those cryptic words made Dean’s brow furrow in confusion when Cas laced their fingers together to lead him, but—damn—was he intrigued!  So intrigued, he was closer to stepping on Cas’ heels with each stride.

When they turned the corner into the kitchen, the very, very last thing Dean had expected _in here_ was taped up against a wall.  Yet the sight?  It made something that felt a lot like joy bubble up in his stomach.  It had been a hot second (since their honeymoon) that he’d experienced it so strongly.

Dean had to ask, “Why the kitchen?”

“Because you break things in here all the time.  If something goes array, it‘ll blend in,” Cas answered with ease, grabbing Dean’s shoulders to position him.  “I used a corkboard to back it and I did a trial run.  It doesn’t bounce, it actually works.”

“Oh, yeah?”  Dean couldn’t help it, his eyes tracked Cas’ every move as he ducked around the counter, collecting things.  “You _actually_ made this happen.  Does this mean you’re serious?”

As Cas placed a single dart into Dean’s open palm and drew his attention back to the oversized map of the United States, he kissed his temple.  “Dead serious.”

Dean took a moment to stare at the map, curled and frayed on the edges, and wondered where the hell Cas had gotten this.  He was still examining it, in all its size and glory, when the alpha’s arms rose up from behind him, and slowly began to dismantle his tie.

Cas explained, while gently tugging off the fabric, “You were so happy when we spoke of driving endlessly.  Of finding a home, a new home, for us.  Maybe you were joking about this idea, but I miss that stunning, blinding smile of yours.  And I believe I just caught a flash.”

The omega leaned his back against Cas’ chest, tie gone and the dart heavy in his hand.

“Dean…we’ve gone back, in a way.  No, it’s not about regressing, but…we’ve outgrown this place and we’re not meant to fit not matter how we try.  You knew before we even crossed state lines back here.  Now _I_ can feel it every day.  It’s heavy.  It’s weighing us down.  Let’s make the change.”  The tie in Cas’ hand—Dean could feel the friction of it sliding up his arm, before it crossed his body, his alpha holding it in both hands.  “You haven’t said much.  Did I get it all wrong?”

“Hell no—” Dean spoke with passion all while he struggled to hold his composure—he never thought someone would do this _for him_.  It was…pretty fucking overwhelming.  “This is right, _so right._   You, uh, nailed it, Cas.  I swear.”

His exhale of relief was as palpable, his scent lightened dramatically.

“Jesus.  You scared me.  The times I’ve read you wrong, like this, are small.”  Cas rested his chin against the omega’s shoulder.  After a brief pause, both taking in the fact that they were committed, they were in it, Cas brushed his lips against Dean’s ear.  “Whenever you want to, let me know—”

“Let’s do it.”

There wasn’t a speck of hesitation left in him.

It was Cas who stuttered while grabbing the correct lengths of tie.  “All right, you know you’re dead center,” the alpha reminded, right before Dean’s world went black.  “I love you, Dean.”

Cas loosely fasten the tie behind his head, both knowing the moment that dart punctured the map, they’d be ripping it off.  

Before he even raised his hand, Dean positioned the dart in his fingers, taking a deep breath.  Being blindfolded and left in darkness, no matter how brief, it gave his mind time to wander.  This time, this place—it wasn’t right for Dean to think over choices, that was something Cas had alluded to—something that happened to them when they arrived back.

They needed their future.  
  
His alpha wanted to give them one so badly.  He’d followed one of Dean’s random speak-before-you-think ideas, because he’d give him the world.  Feeling a little choked up, Dean needed to say, “I love you too, Cas.”  
  
He was ready.

The zing and pop was instantaneous.

Dean’s arm swung out so fast, Cas hadn’t even realized he’d thrown the dart until it was sticking in the map.

With his reaction delayed, both Dean and Cas’ hands wound up reaching to yank away the tie at the same time, wrestled in a tug-of-war, while they both zeroed-in on the map.

The sheer size had them stepping in to read the small print, seeing precisely where they were headed.

It was Cas who eventually read aloud, “Omaha?” and turned around slowly to see Dean’s reaction.

The barest puff of pride from the omega paired with the tiniest twitch on the edge of mouth, and Cas _knew_.  He just friggin knew.

The alpha stood up straighter and put his hands on his hips, eyeing Dean carefully.  “Omaha, _Nebraska_.  Interesting.  That’s around three hours from _Lawrence_ , isn’t it?  Less than three from _Sioux Falls_?”  Cas tapped a finger on his chin, commenting, “Isn’t the Roadhouse actually _in_ Nebraska?” before closing in.

With a sheepish grin, Dean shifted between his feet awkwardly and forced, saying, “I mean, anywhere can be three hours from, like, anywhere.  …Right?”

“It’s literally the middle ground of those three places.”

Dean finally rallied up some gumption, protesting, “But it _is_ _still_ three hours away, and—”

“I think you love your family, no matter how much you complain.“  Now that Dean had admitted it, now that Cas felt that victory, he eased back.  “Maybe seeing them, after running for so long, made you realize that?”

“No. _Possibly_.  Maybe.   _Fine_!”  Dean threw his arms in the air, blurting out, “You’re right, I _was_ running—I could never be what they wanted me to be.  But then…when I felt like I finally did it, when I made ‘em proud or whatever, it was like how things used to be.   _Before_ being an omega and having a mate mattered.  Now, I can have both and—”

“Dean,” Cas interjected, abrupt in both word and motion, wrapping his arms around the omega’s neck.  “I clearly don’t know them as well as you, but from what time I did spend, did you ever think that, perhaps…what they wanted, was your _happiness_?  Maybe, wrong or right, they assumed you could find it through someone else?”

Chewing on his lip, Dean shrugged.  “I dunno.  I’m willing to find out, if you are?”

“Put some more miles on your Baby?” Cas hummed, the gravity between them strengthening as their foreheads pressed together.

“Yeah.  If you trust me—”  His voice was shy of a whisper.

“Of course I trust you, I knew you had a gut feeling about where we were meant to be.”  The alpha tilted his head.  “Why else would I give you that power?  When I’ve _already_ seen you, drunk and blindfolded, win at darts?”

Yeah, Dean’s jaw dropped open a little.  “You… _knew_ …I’d hit my mark—!?“  Confusion swirled as he tried to think back, that absolutely sounded like something drunk-him would do, except he’d totally remember  _that_ badass of a victory, he’d—

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Cas tsk’ed, his tone and his scent laced with nothing mischief and trouble.  “That is another memory I get to keep all to myself.”  He promptly stopped any protests with his lips, cradling Dean when his knees nearly buckled, pulling them together with the sweetest of promises.  “It’s time for _new_ memories.”

  
  
There was no bending, no breaking, not anymore—two weeks _meant_ two weeks.  
  
When Cas saw Dean’s flash of unbridled joy, he took it a step further.  They decided to push the envelope—enough to make another grand adventure—where both of them were happy.    
  
This time, instead of Dean getting a text ordering him to write out a list—to specify their role as alpha and omega—they sat down at the table together.  It was the night after they’d made the announcement to their bosses, the pair was giddy, and the reason for their lists—  
  
Was to delegate.  
  
In two weeks, they wanted to have their home and new life ready to go.  No matter how impossible it seemed.  They were good at this.  Going head-to-head against the most intimidating of jobs and conquering them.  
  
**_Omaha —_**  The title on both their lists, while they brainstormed what needed to happen and when.  
  
They were thorough, to the point they needed countless sheets of paper and a bottle of whiskey.  It was glaringly obvious in their penmanship and notes in the margin when sober turned to tipsy and beyond…  
  
At the end of it all, when Cas and Dean felt like they’d come at this from every fucking corner, nook and cranny, to make this all work out—Dean scribbled one final note at the _very_ end of his list.  
  
\- When in doubt, follow Cas’ lead ( _srsly you can trust him he’s got this!!_ )  
  
He scrawled out verbatim what he’d written down on his first assigned list.  Dean had kept the worn down paper tucked away and crinkled in his jacket, he even found himself glancing at it from time to time.  
  
The advice worked then.  It should work just as well now, right?  
  
  
  
It was all hands on deck until the day arrived.  
  
When Dean and Cas walked to the Impala, it felt like the world stopped turning, as though time ceased to exist when their eyes locked.  
  
Half of the fun was in the journey.  They decided to pave the way to their future through an...unconventional method—an exercise in trust.  
  
Those chores and tasks divided on their lists were very literally _their jobs_ to make happen.  While there was hope all loose ends were tied up in New Jersey, they couldn’t speak about it until today.  They couldn't ask help from the other, because it was all part of the game.  They had a check-list to complete, by any means necessary.  The drive was there, propelling them, making damn sure they didn't let their mate down.  
  
Now that The Day had arrived: it was the perfect road trip conversation.  Now, every single bullet-point jotted down was (supposedly) complete.   
  
Because when it came to their new home?  One man was still going in blind, never so much as seeing a listing.  
  
Lingering in wonder, Cas watched as only a few suitcases made it into the trunk of the Impala.  Nothing more—no U-Haul or moving truck was showing up—per Dean's choice.  
  
Cas praised, “This is good.  Only taking personal items in the move, leaving the rest behind.”  
  
“Wanna know something even better?”  Dean waggled his eyebrows, pulling his alpha in for an almost-dirty kiss.  “I told the guys who subleased our places that rent in the fully-furnished rooms were more expensive and—”  
  
“ _You’re_ turning a profit.  By leaving our second-hand furniture behind.”  While Cas wasn’t surprised, he was impressed.  
  
Dean defended, “Hey!  I changed all the sheets and cleaned, and did... _stuff_!”  
  
Cas chuckled as they stepped away, the omega slamming the trunk closed.  They threw their overnight bags in the back.  The drive was a little over nineteen hours, and the alpha had made the decision to make major headway tonight, and then begin to get comfortable in their new home tomorrow.  
  
When Dean started the Impala, Cas was curious, asking, “What happens if those renters wish to continue living in our previous spaces and the landlord informs them you were making money off them?”  
  
“The economy— _inflation_ , duh?”  The omega flashed a cheesy smile, looking over his shoulder as he backed out.  “Hey, they won’t be mad!  They’ve got fully-loaded, gorgeous places filled with free shit!  We even left our _TVs_!  We’re not close to breaking even!”  
  
“I cancelled both yours and my cable and Wifi today,” the alpha mentioned off-hand, noting the alarm on Dean’s face.  “You promised them free amenities, didn’t you?”  
  
“...Nothin’ we can do about it now,” Dean muttered under his breath.  “It’ll all work out.  They don’t seem too picky anyway.  One’s kinda dumb, the other’s weird, so there’s that.”  
  
Cas sunk back against the seat as they followed the familiar path to get onto the turnpike.  Thinking aloud, he asked, “How did you find these people?  Would I know them?”  
  
“Good ol’ Facebook.  It’s crazy what you can do these days.  The guy who’s subletting mine, his name’s Garth.  He needed a place, _fast_ , because he just found a job at a local dentist office.  Needed to relocate.  I coulda made major bank off’a him, he was so desperate, but it’d be like poking a baby animal.”  The omega paused before telling Cas, “The chick who took your place was a hottie, but like I said— _hella_ weird.  We’re talking stage-five-clinger kinda gal.  She fell in love with your place though.  Introduced herself as Hannah, but signed the contract as Caroline Johnson?  Sketchy, maybe she’s in the mob or something—”  
  
Cas locked up before robotically turning to his mate, jaw dropped.  “ _Hannah_?  Hell no, please, tell me there’s no trace of me left behind, no contact information anywhere in that apartment?  You weren’t sloppy, were you, you—”  
  
“Woah, woah, slow down, babe!”  He wished he could reach across and help calm down—or friggin _shake_ — his alpha, no way he’d risk it, driving seventy-five.  “I cleaned my ass off!  I even bug-bombed the places, to make sure there's literally _nothing_ they can complain about.  You clearly know this girl, what gives?”  
  
“You were correct.  About her being quite obsessive,” Cas ruefully admitted, crossing his arms and trying to calm his nerves.  “She was a long-forgotten one night stand.  I had to take out a restraining order on her, too.  She must have seen me in your profile picture, Hannah must have—”  
  
“You and your crazy-ass chicks!   _Dammit_!”  Dean slapped the dashboard, exasperated when he said, “I _totally_ could’ve up-charged her and made a _killing_ with zero remorse!”  Turning to face his stunned alpha, Dean shook a finger and instructed, “You need to give me a list of all these loony-bin ladies.  I need to protect you and profit off ‘em.”  
  
Cas laughed, he honestly laughed, and avidly agreed, “Of course, Dean.  I expect you to make millions.”  
  
  
  
A switch flipped halfway through the drive.  They were at a gas station to fill up when Dean headed towards the back for the cooler, Cas hot on his heels.    
  
Although, the omega didn’t know.  
  
Not until he was spun around and pinned against the door before he could open it.  
  
“Oh, hey,” Dean greeted with a wide grin, “You feeling frisky, alpha?”  
  
“Mildly frustrated, but not with you.”  He gestured to the drinks on the left.  “I think we may need to rethink our plan.”  
  
The omega followed the path and noticed, yep, Cas was pointing down to the energy drinks.  Wickedly grinning, Dean leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “No way I’m getting a minute of sleep tonight, knowing what we’ve got waiting for us tomorrow,” and then sucked Cas’ earlobe between his teeth.  
  
Cas’ urge to hold Dean down and have his way with him was unsurpassed, pushing boundaries ungodly tempting.  It was late—employees were scarce—it was only them and two other at the front desk.  
  
The alpha didn’t hesitate wrapping his hand around Dean’s throat, maneuvering him exactly where he wanted.  Cas kissed the hell out of Dean, listening for tell-tale footsteps, for as long as they could get away with.  
  
When they broke apart, Dean’s trembling lips and flushed cheeks were almost too much.   _Almost_ hungry enough to risk a quickie in the bathroom—  
  
But no!  Cas needed to veer them back on track!  They had a home waiting for them, it wouldn’t do either any good if they were too exhausted to enjoy it.  That’s precisely what would break this haze of lust.  
  
“I agree, I’ve gotten a second wind and know getting a hotel would be pointless.”  He slowly lowered his grip around the omega’s throat, turning it into caressing fingertips.  “I’m acquiescing, you may have your way.  If we keep up the pace, we should arrive at seven this morning.”  
  
“Hey,” Dean’s voice was soft, a radical change from the previous the all-consuming desire.  “This isn’t about me ‘winning,’” he pushed the words with conviction, “it’s us winning.  Wouldn’t it be awesome to see our new home, our future lit up with the sunrise?  How’d _that_ be for a metaphor, huh?  Then we can sleep afterwards.  We’ve got all the time once we're there, it’s just…”  
  
“We both really, really wish we were already there,” Cas finished for him.  “You’re right.  Let's make it happen.  We can do it.”  
  
Giving Dean space, they both reached into the refrigerated section of drinks.  It had been a long time since he’d traded coffee for an energy drink, but the extra kick would help him in the event of an unexpected adrenaline crash.  Dean, on the other hand, was no stranger to buying in  _bulk_.  
  
Dean also snatched up a couple bags of chips, and some beef jerky on the way to the register.  His eyes lit up at the ‘five hour energy shots’ on display, front and center.  Dean helped himself to four and Cas wondered if he had a deathwish…  
  
When they were back in the parking lot, Dean shouted, “Think fast!” and one of the small energy shots came flying at Cas’ head, _with_ the keys to the Impala.  Thank fuck they stayed together in the throw!  
  
Cas backed up in a circle until he had his arms draped over Dean’s shoulders, kissing him again.  “You know, we really are close.  Since this would’ve been our stopping point for the night…” he couldn’t keep his lips to himself, forcing out his intent in-between kissing his mate, “it’s only a matter of hours…”  
  
“Mm-hm,” Dean was thrilled, all kinds of delighted, while leaning into his alpha’s touch.  “Let’s get moving then, huh?  I’ll fuel _me_ while you drive, then we can switch again.”  
  
“Or I can simply drive,” the alpha suggested, since Dean hadn’t given up the wheel for the past twelve hours.  He could clearly handle the rest of the hike.  
  
The expression on Dean’s face was quizzical, warily saying, “We’ll see about that, alpha.  Depends on your night-driving skills…”  
  
“On the turnpike?  Surrounded by nothing but fields?”  The alpha popped out his bottom lip in thought, copping a feel of Dean’s ass right before he turned his directions for the driver’s side.  Dramatically, he announced, “This may be some of the most challenging roads I’ve faced!”  
  
There were a few choice words under his breath, but Dean was too excited to get back on their way and dig into his jerky.  But first!  The drinks: they were essential.  
  
Right before Cas flashed on the turn signal to exit the gas station, they both raised their cans, bumping them together.  Both chugged enough so they wouldn’t slosh over the edges _and_ get Baby sticky when they sat in cup holders.  It was also to get the caffeine rushing into their systems, keeping them awake and alert.  Cas wouldn't have _willingly_ chosen this for any other purpose.  
  
This was, like, the opposite of drinking—a first for them.  If Dean slipped some of the Five-Hour shot into Cas’ beverage, could that be considered roofie-ing him?  He wanted them both bright eyed and bushy tailed, that’s how he felt, how he had been feeling since the moment the dart hit the map!  
  
Normally, Dean adored road trips, but this time—something to go down in the history books—he kept asking himself: “Are we in Omaha yet?”  
  
  
  
“Dean...Dean?”  
  
The words came with a soft touch.  It grew more assertive by the minute, and the omega realized, _fuckin’ a_!  He’d fallen asleep again!  
  
He was pillowed on his side, staring at Cas sitting in the driver’s seat, and the alpha’s fingers were beginning to twist and curl the hair at the nape of his neck.  Sometime during the drive, Cas had also managed to cover Dean up with his jacket.  He was so comfortable, enjoying every moment of being loved and—  
  
Woah, _wait_!  
  
They were parked.  That’s why Cas could get away with the doting!  And it was bright outside!  
  
He knew his eyes must have doubled in size, and before he could ask some dumb-ass question, Cas stepped in to save him.  
  
“Yes, my omega.  We’re here.  Whenever you’re ready,” Cas instructed with a beaming smile and retreated, giving Dean his space.  
  
Yep, this task?  Finding their dream home?  
  
Dean had complete trust and no qualms about leaving the logistics (well, fucking _everything_ ) up to Cas.  
  
The omega left the undertaking to Cas, to find a spot they both loved, following their ‘Terms and Conditions’ privacy laws, Dean remained outside of the loop.  Thiswas where the bulk of the alpha's assignments fell, Cas was a madman.  He wanted to do it all by himself!  
  
God, Dean was so ready, the moment was here, anticipation was building and Cas’ joy filled Baby and Dean’s heart.  
  
 _That’s_ when Dean had an idea, catching and capturing Cas’ excited glance.  
  
“Do you wanna swing around and I'll close my eyes while you lead me?  Find the best spot for me to open ‘em?”  He could see Cas reacting ridiculously positive to the idea, continuing with, “Dunno how the chance fell into our laps, with me passing out, but we could use it to our advan—Cas—?”  
  
Well, shit, Cas was already _gone_ , spinning around and tearing the jacket from him.  After he popped the seat belt and assured him, “Okay, close your eyes closed,” Dean felt a kind of nervous from Cas’ mania...just a _little..._  
  
Like, the kind of over-enthusiastically fly over a rock and crack your skull open, mania…  
  
To keep himself away from the undying urge to peek, Dean slapped his hands over his face, covering his eyes.  No way, did he trust himself!  
  
He couldn’t stop grinning...his nose already gave him clues about this place, things that he loved, while he was safely lifted out of the Impala—  
  
They weren’t downtown in the thick of the busy city—both his ears and nose gave that one away.  Dean could smell...a garden?  If not, then lush landscaping and foliage.  The omega wondered if that was for him or Cas, both of them loved to be surrounded by greenery, their proximity to New York had made that damn near impossible—  
  
While he could hear activity in the background, it was a controlled chaos, maybe a suburb?  Dean couldn't help his guessing game as Cas continued to guide him carefully, whispering instructions of where to steps and what to dodge.  
  
Cas finally steadied Dean with his hands around the omega’s waist.  “This time I mean it—whenever you’re ready.”  
  
Dean meant it, too.


	12. Epilogue

  
  
When Dean's eyes flew open and he took in the sight in front of him and he knew in his bones—he just _knew it_ right away—this place wasn’t just a house, it was a home.  Someone had put in a lot of love when they laid the foundation.  When they'd mapped out and built this Adobe home and it left Dean in awe.  
  
“Just like our trip to New Mexico...”  The omega fought through his speechlessness, baffled that Cas was able to locate one so far north.  Cas _also_ remembered how intrigued and in love Dean had been with the character and individuality that came with the architecture.  “H-how?”  
  
“Don’t forget—the Omaha Tribe are Native Americans, indigenous to this land.  We’re not far from the reservation and we got lucky.”  There was a smile in Cas’ voice when he suggested, “Modern technology may have led to sharing ideas, their lives and struggles, and their traditions.  Plus,  _nothing_ beats a structure that isn’t broke—there are many countless advantages.”  
  
How Cas managed to pull this off was beyond him, but the omega was captivated.  
  
The two-story Adobe house was warm, solid, and built with an attention to detail—the finished work crisp and upscale, considering the materials it was built from.  Not only was there a myriad of windows beckoning the sunlight in, but flowers and plants thrived from their inside view.  
  
Beginning at the garden plots by the door, to a small pathway leading to the trellis, climbing flowers and greenery accented the exterior seamlessly.  Speaking of green, one of the things Cas had mentioned in New Mexico was how sustainable and environmentally-friendly these houses were for the long haul.  
  
_Of course_ , Cas knew everything about every.  And he'd be thinking about their carbon footprint.  His mate could have that—the omega was caught up in the aesthetic.  
  
Hell yeah—Dean could also see two balconies from the front, too!  He’d always wanted a tree fort, but having a balcony to yourself?  The next best thing!  
  
His feet were moving without him, Cas’ lax grip falling away, as his focus moved left and right.  Dean’s fingertips traced the low brick-laid tops of white-walled concrete fencing around the perimeter.  He gasped in shock, looking down, because there was _no_ fucking _way—_  
  
“Cas!” Dean whipped around, jaw hanging open, “We’ve got a Koi pond?!”  
  
“Oh—”  The alpha wiped a hand down his face.  “Your silence about your impressions of the house have been disconcerting, the wind is...blowing your scent away—I can’t read you.  But, yes, it has the potential and is set up for Koi the moment you’d like.  Can I take assume you like it so far?”  
  
“You _kiddin_ ’?”  He was legitimately gobsmacked, squaking the word out, snatching his alpha’s hands back.  “This is all kinds of perfect, I know I wouldn't have been able to keep this to myself.”  Dean felt the cold deposit of metal in his palm as they approached the custom-designed French Doors.  
  
The architect had mixed in traditional Adobe structure and fine-tuned with embellishments and landscaping that thrived in the ‘Great Plains.’  Meeting in the middle was fantastic.  God, Dean couldn’t wait to see what was waiting for them inside.  
  
“I feel like I’m in a dream...”  It was airy as Dean unlocked the front doors.  “ _Wow—_ ”  
  
“Wonderful.”  Now Cas could _finally_ get a read on Dean’s scent, he was elated.  “Because it’s ours.”  
  
They only made it as far as the living room before his admission, when Dean spun around, demanding, “What?  How?!  And where did you even find this place?  Get it to begin with?!”  
  
It turned out, their individual choices worked out in harmony, like Dean leaving their belongings behind—Cas had already taken the leap and delved into filling the place with necessities.  Like the couch in the living room.  One he led Dean to.  He had to give credit where credit was due.  
  
The omega, like a kid on Christmas morning, wore a dopey smile and bounced up and down on the couch a few times before remembering what he was doing there.  “Cas, how did you pull this off?  Seriously, this is crazy!  It’s unreal—”  
  
“Your confusion may be a side-effect of the sleep-deprivation,” Cas suggested, and got a punch in the shoulder for his troubles.  “I wasn’t alone, I had a team who helped me out and, well, kicked ass.”  
  
Dean’s raised eyebrow prompted the alpha to continue, “Joanna Beth and I hit it off back in Palo Alto.  When you were with Charlie, I’d exchanged contact information with Jo.  I told her about our move, she told me we were clinically insane, and then she was thrilled to help.  I looked at listings online, she was close enough to go view them in person and tell me what they were really like.”  
  
“This house truly was pure luck.  It wasn’t on any ad, no realtor gave us the information, either.  Ellen told Jo and I about it.  A woman had inherited this house, she kept on dragging her feet, because she could never find anyone who’d appreciate it like her family had.”  Cas gestured widely, to the open living room, “When Jo sent me pictures?  It was everything we wanted.  A done deal.”  
  
“Yeah, it really is,” Dean agreed, but he still couldn’t grasp one thing: “How did you beg and barter over the phone?  I’m picturing this woman having _family_ who built it—now, I know you can sweet talk, but even you aren’t that good.”  
  
Cas flashed an expression and a scent so full of mischief, Dean didn’t know _what_ to expect...   
  
“I sweet-talked her the same way I bought the house.  I called in sick to work, flew out in the early morning to meet with Jo and Ellen, handled business here, then flew back before you even knew I was gone.”  The alpha was quite happy with Dean’s stunned-into-silence mode, and he wanted to elaborate.  “Ellen knowing the woman made for a good first impression.  All I did after, was tell her our story from New Mexico and our latest trip to Palo Alto, and the keys were in my hand before I could finish.”  
  
“Y-y-you bought it, though?”  Dean was trying to wrap his mind around so many things and failing, he needed to focus one thing at a time.  “With what money?  This place is friggin _gorgeous_ , it’s hard work and art forged together, and it couldn’t have been cheap.  Plus…” his hand coasted over the leather couch, “you filled the joint up.  Are you a secret Trust Fund Baby?”  
  
“God, do I wish...”  The alpha cupped Dean’s cheeks and drew him in, kissing him once, and holding him in place.  
  
This...had to be important—   
  
“Over the years, I have saved up a lot of money.  I’ve been fortunate enough to have a best friend whose idea of a good time is the same as mine: pizza and TV.  Instead of fancy brunches every Sunday, trips to Wineries, shopping and the like.  Now, I found myself as his alpha,” a glorious smile tugged the corners of his mouth, “and I know everything happens for a reason.  It’s my chance to give my omega everything he wants, because I _can_ , I want to, and it’s within my means.”  
  
“Fuckin’ hell, Cas,” Dean’s hands rose to overlap his, and he nodded—finally having learned his lesson about accepting compliments and gestures.  “Thank you.  It’s unbelievable, I’m over the moon it’s ours.”  Pushing forward, hungry for his kiss, Dean gladly savored each one.  He only retreated to say, “Why don’t we crash and fall asleep?  Then we can do the rest of the tour.  Grab our luggage after some Z’s?”  
  
The thing was—while Cas approved of Dean’s plan, he was too busy kissing the hell out of him to respond.  He couldn’t help it, this introduction had exceeded his expectations and Cas’ response was to thank his omega with his mouth.  He could feel Dean chuckling against his lips, halfheartedly trying to gain some autonomy—  
  
“Caaaaas,” he finally whined.  “Hey—don’t you wanna show me the bed?  It’ll be much more cozy than this couch.  No matter _how_ much I like it…”  
  
That was right.  Sleep deprivation.   _A bed_.  It could be used to either add to the exhaustion _or_ start rewinding the clocks.  Making things right, resting up with a good ol’ fashioned siesta.  
  
“ _Yes_ , bed—” Cas finally managed and miraculously traveled, still glued to the omega, blindly navigating their way up the stairs.  
  
This, right here, was dangerous!  Their bedroom being on the second floor?  Especially because of how many times they were using it these days...oh, well.  It would look good on a FitBit, going up and down flights with the cardio in the middle...Cas already seemed to know the way—or faked it well—with how the alpha held Dean and led him down the hallway.  It was equal parts loving and desperate.  
  
All Dean could do was pray they ended up where they were supposed to—Cas knew the layout, not him!  He wasn’t about to duck and dodge out of Cas’ arms, peaking around corners, looking in the other rooms, searching out their destination.  
  
Cas slammed Dean up against the abrasive hallway wall, and it fueled him _more—_  
  
Thank God, they didn’t have pictures up, only to come clattering and shattering down.  Dean (now on his fourth or fifth wind) snarled at his mate and, with a spike of adrenaline, he plowed forward, shoving him back—Cas colliding with the door behind him.  
  
With Dean flush to his body, never leaving his bubble, Cas clamped his mouth over his healed claim and sucked.  Fuck, that moan of pure sex from Dean was _exactly_ what the alpha wanted to hear, and—  
  
“What the flip, dudes?!”  Both men froze.  
  
The door next to where Cas was pinned flew open, revealing an annoyed Charlie.  
  
“Oh, _shit—_ ”  Cas cleared his throat and gathered his bearings.  In doing so, he unceremoniously put distance between he and Dean (who once again, was startled in a wonderful way), but...kinda needed to cover his erection.  “I apologize, I should have kept you updated.  We decided to drive straight through without stopping for that motel.  We shall...go.  Catch up on sleep, now.  It’s good to see you, Charlie.”  
  
She clucked her tongue and wagged her finger, “You friggin _better_ be sleeping!  My room, the, uh, _guest room_ is too close to yours.  I do not —repeat: _do not —_ wanna hear you bone!  Plus, you need your strength for tonight.”  
  
When she ended it on a cheery note, Dean’s happiness had (for once) overruled his dick, and he dove to pull Charlie into a hug.  
  
“Wow, do you come with the entire package of the house, too?”  He began swaying her, until he remembered—it was too damn early for them to get riled up from Dean’s antics.  “Cas is too fucking good at keeping secrets!  What are you doing here?!”  Dean knew Charlie would never lie to him.  She couldn't lie to save her life.  
  
“I’ve been doing a lot!”  She was proud, putting her hands on her hips and stifling a yawn.  “Phew!  Sorry, super tired.  I’ve been signing for packages, telling the moving dudes where to put stuff: via Cas’ Master Plan.  Waiting for the cable dude.  Installing WiFi.  Getting the water and electricity back on.  Basically—making your lives easy so you can enjoy when you arrive!”  
  
Charlie snorted out a laugh when she said, “It sure as hell looked _and_ sounded like you were enjoying… _Dean—_ ” she coughed the omega’s name into a balled up fist to harass him.  
  
“I apologize again,” Cas quickly interrupted, “We really should all get to sleep.  Thank you so much, Charlie.  We’ll see you very soon.”  
  
“Yep!  We sure will!”  Dean ruffled his hand through her hair and gripped her shoulder.  “ _We_ gotta catch up, right?”  
  
“Duh, sweet dreams, boys!” and Charlie disappeared just as fast as she had appeared.  
  
Finally, Cas pulled Dean three doors down and confirmed, “Charlie has done a wonderful job, here.  Her assistance has been invaluable,” before finally opening the door wide to let Dean in.  
  
It had only occurred to the omega now that their previous lives, their homes, had been mapped out for them as individuals.  Dean should know—he'd personally gotten rid of the joints and interviewed countless subletting candidates.  
  
This was new, exhilarating.  Dean had never really slept on a king sized mattress outside motels, experienced a one room dedicated to two people.  And that's what this was: it was _theirs_.  
  
He locked down a solid grip on Cas’ hand as he launched onto the massive, tempting bed, taking the alpha with him.  During their roll around, trying to remember which way was up, they’d stripped down to their boxers.  The chill in the room made them dive below the covers.  Just when Dean had pillowed against his mate’s chest, he retreated, doing a double-take—  
  
“ _No_ freakin’ _way—_ ”  If there was anything— _anything—_ that gave Dean a taser-like jolt of stupefied well, _stupidity_...here it was.  
  
Cas didn’t have to look, he knew—but still his eyes followed the four beams around his bed.  Continuing up, up further...  
  
Until Dean and Cas’ eyes met.  And not face to face—but through a panel of mirrors.  They didn’t extend and cover every inch of the ceiling.  There were just enough to mimic the shape of their bed.  A call back and memory of their mating.  The light pouring through the window caught the reflection and amplified the rays—naturally brightening the room.  
  
“I can just as easily remove those,” Cas assured his mate, rubbing his back and trying his damnedest not to crack up.  Uncensored Dean was a gift, through his flashing facial expressions, plus all the random shit that came out of his mouth was priceless  
  
“Nope,” Dean decided with finality, “Those are staying, right up there!” and he rolled onto Cas, kissing him again.  “I figured out how to split my time.  All the different ways to watch you.  God, are you some kind of incubus?  Sex genie!?”  
  
“Only an alpha who loves their mate.”  Dammit, Cas was torn between speaking and acting.  Except, the alpha knew what the correct answer was.  “I’ll be whatever you want.  _Once_ we catch up on sleep.  Unfortunately, my ‘powers’ have stalled out from fatigue.”  
  
“Sure as fuck weren’t stallin’ when we were throwing each other down the hall...”  
  
Cas’ words were more like a confession, or at least the beginning of one, “Yes, I know, it was unfair.  I was just acting, that was...before I _remembered_ , too.  How much we need our energy.”  
  
That’s why Dean was so wary, asking, “Why do I think this is bigger than just Charlie?”  
  
With a terse nod, Cas hugged him tighter.  “Because it is.  That’s all I can say.  Your trust has gotten you this far, right?  Go on faith a bit longer...”  
  
Dean wiggled around, preparing to pass the hell out.  “Yeah, yeah.  I’ve been doing nothin' but putting trust and faith in you, like you're my new religion.”  He rolled his eyes as they both snickered and sunk against one another.  
  
“I love you, Dean, I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you, beginning here.”  
  
Damn, the omega felt the longing and the love in his voice, staying tucked into his side and agreeing, while his eyelids getting heavy, “We did it, Cas.  God, I love you, but what you _have_ done for me, here, and so well...I can’t describe how much it means to me.”  
  
  
  
Holy crap, they slept like rocks.  All of the, well, _everything_ , finally wore down on them and their nap turned out to be the best thing _ever_.  
  
A knock on the door woke them up, followed by a hushed, “You better not be fucking,” but the thing was—it wasn’t Charlie.  The words, “You’re only getting up now?  I thought you’d set your alarms!” were eerily familiar and disconcerting—  
  
Dean squinted, eyes sleep-heavy and confused when he said, “Sammy?” and slowly pushed up to see, yes—his brother was here!  He cleared his throat, wondering, “Set our alarms for what?” as he began to poke Cas awake.  
  
Sam scooted to Dean's side on the edge of the bed, and smirked wildly.  “Last time we had this conversation, I yelled at you.  Said maybe you would’ve listened to me if you guys didn’t have each other’s tongues down yer throats.  But today...is different.”  
  
“Yes,” Cas agreed, rolling over to face Sam, yet refusing to get out of bed yet.  “It was nice Sam didn’t give us too much grief—”  
  
“But seriously, why the hell didn’t you set your alarms?”  And there was his bitchface!  “Are you two allergic to being on time?”  
  
Dean blinked dumbly and tilted his head, “On time for what?  And, hell yes, I’m stoked you’re here, Sam, but what’s going on?”  
  
That’s when his senses finally came alive.  When the fog of sleep dissipated like a dazed afterthought and the omega’s ears picked up...people.  Plural.  More than only Charlie, that was for sure.  
  
He immediately grabbed Cas’ shoulders, shaking him into _full_ consciousness, demanding, “What the fuck did you do!”  
  
Laughing out loud, the alpha just allowed Dean to shake him.  His words were thrown all over, at different volumes and different pitches while he was jarred, “It was a group effort!  N-not just me, okay?”  
  
“It’s true!”  Sam tried to save the other alpha from brain damage, explaining, “I heard from Jo you guys were looking for a place out here and you were on a time-crunch schedule.  That’s when I enlisted Charlie, and had her come out.”  He stared at his brother, almost patronizingly, “Dean.   _Omaha_?  That only means one thing.  Family.”  
  
“So...what?  What’s going on?”  
  
“A celebration,” Castiel finally had the gumption and the space to wrap his arms around Dean from behind.  He nestle his chin in the crook of his omega’s neck.  “To us.  Our mating, our moving, our future.  So your family knows where we are, where they can find us—only a few hours away.  Oh,” he pecked the omega on the cheek, thinking of something else that may cheer him up, “Jo, Charlie and I created a registry for housewarming gifts.  I made sure to get things you’ll love.”  
  
Sam got to his feet and clapped his hands, “The pile of presents is getting pretty tall!  Oh, your backyard is friggin awesome, guys!  I love this house!”  
  
“The hell!”  Dean stuttered, “ _I-I_ haven’t seen the back yard yet—!”  
  
“Well, like I said: it’s awesome,” his brother assured, and glanced at them both.  “I think almost everyone is here!  So you guys get ready and then we’ll get the party started.  You have no idea...how happy we are for you.”  He tapped the door frame before closing it, humming, “Meet you downstairs.”  
  
The mated pair lingered there, sharing body heat for a second, before Dean began laughing, “I guess I really did— _do—_ need my energy!  Goddamn, Cas, have you always been this sneaky?  Or is this new?!” he looked over his shoulder and saw picturesque innocence.  
  
“I wanted to give you the Welcome Home you deserved.  Surrounded by people you love, who love you.  So you never regret your choice with that dart,” the alpha clarified.  “Sam already said it, but when I called your family to invite them—they were on cloud nine.”  
  
“ _Our_ family.”  Dean cleared his throat, intent heavy in the words, “Cas, all those people downstairs?  They’re just as much your family as mine now.  Do you think Jo would’ve gone to those lengths, if she didn’t consider you a brother?  Do you think Charlie would’ve dropped her entire life, dead in its tracks, for just anyone?”  
  
He pivoted around, realizing for all the times he instructed _Dean_ to take a compliment, to accept a gesture...maybe Cas wasn’t sure how to do it himself.  So the omega leaned in with a tender brush of his lips, to put them into motion.  
  
When they parted, Cas admitted, “I…had not considered that angle.  I simply took joy that everyone was willing to make you happy.  In retrospect, you’re right.  It was for us both.”  He ran his fingers through Dean's hair and sighed heavily, “I feel foolish now.”  
  
“Nah, no way.  We’ve gotta party on our hands and presents!  Because I’ve got the best friggin alpha ever!”  As Dean got to his feet, he continued leaning forward, languidly kissing his mate.  Without warning, he snapped up, animated and urging, “C’mon, let’s take advantage of your hard work!  And celebrate!”  
  
Castiel agreed and followed quickly behind Dean as they got ready together.  The words...weren't as foreign as he thought they'd be, “We'll celebrate with our family.”  
  
Dean's scent burst with pride, filling the entire room, as he pulled on his jacket.  He lingered to take it in: watching, appreciating, and—above all else—grateful for Cas.  Dean's eyes shined vibrantly, hell—he was  _glowing_.  “Damn straight.  Our family.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(fits like) a g(love)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16298714) by [foxymoley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxymoley/pseuds/foxymoley), [PaperAnn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperAnn/pseuds/PaperAnn)




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